Brave Words And Bloody Knuckles
by Sick Of It All
Summary: Avast ye scoundrels! 'Tis the year of our lord 1722 and scurrilous pirate Captain Faith Lehane is searching for a treasure not of gold nor bejewelled trinket but one beyond compare. This be a tale of skulduggery and woe on the high seas.
1. Chapter 1

Avast ye bastards! 'Tis the year of our lord 1732 and scurrilous pirate Captain Faith Lehane is searching for a treasure not of gold nor bejewelled trinket but one beyond compare. This be a tale of skulduggery and woe. Of bravery and grapeshot. Of rakes and libertines. Of swift vessel and blackened heart. Of finding a treasure so precious that a merry banquet awaits you in Beelzebub's fiery pit for doubting it's worth.

And lo...

'Twas the year of our Lord 1732 and the seas were still and comforting. All who sailed upon it's glassy surface were blessed to be beneath a quiet sky that stretched out from a once scorched horizon, it was black as pitch with a blanket of stars to guide all who dared venture upon it whether they be blaggard or nobleman.

The silence of the night was torn asunder by the rum sodden carousing of a scurrilous crew.

_"'Tween the drop and the snap but one tear did roll_

_I very much doubt it was shed for this soul_

_But for the delay of the merchant brigade_

_If they got me last time many lives would be saved._

_I turned my back 'pon the fyfe and the drum_

_For I was seduced by Antiguan rum_

_And the harlots in scarlet I could now afford_

_If I live by the cutlass I'll die by the sword._

_So I'll swing for me crimes, I will swing for me crimes_

_No body of sorrow at the end of this line_

_And the heart shall not punish what God ne'er forgave_

_So I'll swing for me crimes, I will swing for me crimes._

_Carried on the wind, a mother's lament_

_As I face the gallows unrepentant_

_No last regrets for I'll die as I lived_

_With the sun on back and a curse on my lips._

_No stranger to ruin, an acquaintance of loss_

_Cheer me or fear me as I stand on the dock_

_To hell's great dominion, shackled and bound_

_As I'll dance in the air for a pitiless crowd._

_So I'll swing for me crimes, I will swing for me crimes_

_No body of sorrow at the end of this line_

_And the heart shall not punish what God ne'er forgave_

_So I'll swing for me crimes, I will swing for me crimes"._

Making high cockalorum in the Captain's cabin were her most loyal and trusted of companions. On an eve such as this the grog flowed freely and the clay pipes lodged in scurvy plagued teeth let it's coiling fog wrap around them like a hedonistic cocoon. Though at first light they would feel the wake of their damnable consumption for the treachery of sobriety, a most scournful lover, awaited them.

But for now they sang their merry tune like an anthem for the inebriated in order to cock a snook at the impending death that sailed with them wherever they made port.

Branded traitor, villain, miscreant or thief they would all find their true worth under the name that most came to dread.

That of pirate. For who amongst us could ever refuse a life filled with rum, sodomy and the lash?

Captained by one Faith Lehane, a buxom wench of less than twenty summers, yet she was a creature of decadence and powder, whose brave words and bloody deeds had become the basis of legend. All knew tales of this raven haired temptress, and her reputation as a lady of vengeance stretched from the sorrowed gallows of Newgate to the sordid bordellos of Madrid, from the misery soaked cotton fields of Virginia to the drudgery of the sulphur mines of Jakarta.

Sat at the head of a finely carved oak table she was not a lady of refinement or chivalrous conduct. Naught a lady at all if the stories exchanged in the gin soaked taverns were to be believed. They could not see how a woman of such lowly birth and scoundrelled existence could be the terror of the Caribbean.

But she was all woman. Fighter, lover, leader and every man jack of her crew would rather polish the king's iron with their eyebrows than let their loyalty slip.

She swirled her rum around in her silver goblet as her leather boots pushed gold doubloons across the table and sighed the sigh of discontent that she had once sworn she would not become a slave to. She picked at the lint on her embroidered wiskit that had been purloined from Captain Rodriguez when they had plundered the Spanish king's favored vessel. It had caused outrage in the court of King Phillip and he had sworn revenge upon Captain Lehane and her crew but she was as cunning as she was beautiful and could sail the waters that most feared to even mention by name.

But something did stir deep within her. She had her crew, her shipmates, her friends and she knew all of them would lay down their lives for her and she would gladly do the same, without hesitation and without question, but the rabble rousing ditty enthused by her most trusted could not force her dimples to flash.

Though she was surrounded by those dearest to her heart a thirst lingered within her that the finest of wines could not sate, a hunger that no bounty could placate, though she would impale you 'pon rusted blade for suggesting such a weakened notion. Loneliness was the meandering vagabond that raided her soul each night and gnawed upon her slumber.

Not even the comical antics of her pet monkey Wesley could force a smile to break out on her face. Usually she would be most amused as her one eared capuchin ran across her shoulders for the offered peanuts, but on this eve she felt most ill at ease.

Her scarred fingers held the goblet to her lips as she breathed the scent of the ill-gotten grog, deeply it plunged into her lungs but its heady aroma would not soothe the discomfort that seared her tattered heart.

For she yearned for the resonance of battle, to hear the roar of cannon in her ears, the fervent scent of powder in her nose, the tear of flesh from shot and the blood of valiant foe to gild her Fathers blade. It was all a facade though, to try and quell the aching emptiness that lingered within her.

Her reticence did not go unnoticed by her First Mate Kennedy. A dark haired maiden of a perilous past whom, once aboard Faith's ship, had grown into a fearsome warrior and respected woman. She flashed a smile of glowing ivory courtesy of the fresh fruits and salted meats that were the staples their Captain had insisted they feast upon.

"But I don't see why we don't spend the money? We can get you a real eye, one made of glass and that will show them..."

"Show who? The stingray whose tail slashed my eye out?", Xander mocked.

"Stingray? I thought it was a knife fight with a Seminole?", asked the fair haired Englishman as he pulled his Naval coat closer to his taut body.

"No, it was...shut up Spike"

"But I don't get why we bury our treasure, we could own so much land and then with all the diamonds and rubies we could.."

"Anya", Xander interrupted, "We do as the Captain says. Has she ever let us down yet?"

"Well that was that time in Singapore she.."

Xander's hand slapped over his girlfriend's mouth as he wanted no-one to know of the incident in the Queen's laundry with the chambermaid and the prized sapphire they had set out to purloin.

Wesley scrambled between the scattered jewels and spilt wine, all snatched from the feeble grasp of Bondsmen and brigand alike, and leapt into Dawn's welcoming lap. As she silently played with him the young girl looked up to her 'family' though most would brand them both with hot iron and with names such as fugitive and ne-erdowells

"We scurrilous few. We band of the abandoned. We who are free to proclaim a pox upon the King and all his maleficent courtiers that sail 'neath his tainted colours. Free of the rigor of rigmarole and the cadence of Papal..."

"Andrew!", Faith yelled as she slammed down her goblet on the table that shook both doubloons and muteness to the lips of her crew, "If you don't stop I'm going to nail your tongue to the table!"

Rising to her feet she grabbed her treasured ivory handled pistol and tucked it into her wide leather belt and stormed out of the cabin leaving her compadres most perplexed. She slammed the sturdy wooden door and strode across the creaking weather raped wooden timbers to the majestic prow and stared out to the velvet sheen that she called her kingdom.

Kennedy was the first to dare break the silence decreed by the irked action of their captain as she refilled her tankard.

"Indeed Andrew, watch that mouth of yours for what will Spike do without it?", she sneered knowingly.

"Hey, I'm no bloomin' dinnermasher", protested Spike as he fought to keep his blush under tightened rein,

"Keep telling yourself that mi amigo. But Faith does worry me, she's been out of sorts for weeks now. Is there nothing you can give her, Oz?"

"Like what? I do not have the best medical equipment here and medicines aren't easy to get a hold of in the middle of the ocean, now please be quiet...I'm trying to finish my entry", he scoffed as he dipped quill to ink and scratched his cursive across the crinkled page.

"Why do you always write in your journal, our lives do not hold that much interest do they?", asked Anya as she tapped her long stemmed pipe on the table with a sharp rapping.

"My Pater once told me to write a good book with many comely wenches and bloodthirsty pirates and then I could retire to the heart of Kent and tend my beloved roses in peace"

"Yeah, shame you'd be up before the beak if you ever set foot in England, debtors gaol and all that. Maybe they would put you with your mother in a gibbet in Aldgate Alley", came the mocking voice of the blonde Englishman.

"Spike...hold your tongue", the Doctor with the blackened name growled back.

"Or what?"

"Oh…..just grow up you berk", said Oz as he returned to his leather bound tome.

"You scholars are all the same, show some guts and it takes all the powder from your musket"

"Oh Spikey", said Kennedy in a tone comparable to a seraphs midnight lullaby. Her braided strands of hair pushed back whilst her be-ringed fingers wiggled provocatively.

"Right then, you're on luv", retorted the former Petty Officer as he too readied himself for the noble art of arm wrestling.

"Loser has to man the helm next time we reach port."

"Sure thing luv, think of me with all the sweet arse women in the tavern when you're all alone on the ship"

"Like hell, c'mon then big boy"

Their rope reddened palms gripped and thick beads of sweat breached their skins as the well tattooed arms of Spike and Kennedy moved back and forth. Their eyes narrowed and their chipped teeth gritted harder as neither wanted to lose such a wager as it had been many a month since either had tasted a comely lass with loose morals and looser legs. An arm began to quiver and went down fast. A winner was declared as the bellows of laughter and celebration rang out through the well dressed cabin.

Faith ignored the re-emerging chorale of joy that spilt from her cabin and stared up at the northern star which sparkled with a loneliness that bid a kinship to the Captain. Her dark locks whipped around her in the oceanic breeze, though the sea was her callous and foul tempered Mistress, Faith could tame and ride her forever.

Since the accord between herself and Angelus, a vicious captain of ill repute, they controlled the straits from Port Royal to New Chatham and with the uncharted waters claiming many a hull of the Navy most feared to enter these waters and so a real fight was most rare.

Her eyes that bore the shade of bison leather fell from its heavenly gaze as the slow creaking of the wheel shook Faith from her solitary moment. Glancing round she broke a small smile to her trusted Bo'sun Mr Gunn who nodded back as he steered their vessel on it's darkened voyage that was both silent and devoid of rage.

But all who ventured upon the high seas knew they taunted the grim hand of death at every turn. The Royal Navy of both the British and Spanish sovereigns wanted to wrest control of the great blue yonder so that they could cement their rule of the colonies.

But during these turbulent times the scourge of piracy ran rife and the scurrilous vagabonds of the sea took full opportunity to raid and plunder from both sides and so the monarchs of Europe were united by a common cause. To end the pirates once and for all.

Faith sighed once more and looked up. The sails were full, as were her chests, but her heart was not.

As the salty air swum around her she chuckled lightly as she heard light footsteps creep behind her.

"It's ok Dawnie"

Though no-one, not even the girl herself, knew Dawn's real age she could not have been more than twelve years old. The reticent charge knew not her surname and so was thrilled when her benefactor allowed her to take the name 'Dawn Lehane'. Faith loved the girl like a sister and wished more than anything that she could provide a real life for her far away from this one, but the brunette knew the ways of the world and as much as it pained her she knew that this was the only life she could provide, though Dawn would never admit she couldn't even imagine life without salt in the air and the echo of chaos.

The youngster looked up at her sister with concern. She too had noticed the change in Faith's demeanour of late for the Captain had wrapped herself in a brooding that no fathoms could measure.

"I'm just saying goodnight to Father", Faith said softly as she nodded up at the star to which she prayed each night.

Dawn took her idol's warm hand into her own and smiled as she felt a slight squeeze.

Faith merely felt the tug of a grin at her solemn face as she looked down at the beaming girl, nodding to her signalling that she was fine. Dawn hugged her around her power burnt black longcoat and skipped back into the den of iniquity that was the Captain's cabin.

The Captain, called both illustrious and dreaded, smiled at the innocence and unremitting love from Dawn that could thaw her bitterness even on the most achingly empty of times.

Faith's eyes returned to the sea, the crest of each wave beckoning her onward to a life and a love she but dreamed of. The gloom and quiet of her territory matched that which dwelled within her soul.

"A ship!", came the call from the lofty crow's nest.

To Faith, sweeter words had ne'er been uttered.

"A ship of war?", the Captain called back across the blood red sails as she rushed to starboard ringing the cast iron bell as one hand reached for her cutlass.

"Nay, 'tis a British sloop"

The brunette grinned widely and silently thanked the star where her father's spirit did reside. She pulled out her spyglass to see her prey listing idly upon the waves as her crew scurried from her cabin to heed her call. Though such a vessel would scarcely put up a fight she was keen to unfurl her contempt of the Navy on any who dared cross her path.

"Mr Harris...run up the colors!"

Aboard the HMS Resolution, a fine ship of much pride and envy, another young lady stared out to sea through the stained glass of her opulent cabin. Her apathy matched the darkened canvas of the sky.

She was a young lady of grace and breeding. Considered to be of the finest colonial stock Elizabeth Summers knew what life lay ahead for her as she held in her petite hands a letter of introduction penned by the quill of her stern godfather.

Her shy hand maiden Willow tried to raise her sunken spirit and held up a long voluminous gown of blue silken finery glimmering in the narrow shafts of moonlight that spilled into the room.

"What about this one Miss Buffy? 'Twas made by Messrs. Briggs and Gamble"

"Whomever", the blond girl shrugged in indifference.

"What's wrong Miss Buffy?"

"Nothing", she sighed back.

Though her bespoke gowns were the finest in Parisian couture and her jewellery was exquisite she felt a sadness grow in her with each passing second. She wanted more out of life than to be naught but a wife and mother, she felt as though she was mere chattel to be traded amongst the elite of The New World but such was the price of a pretty face and a familial whim.

"D-d-did I do something wrong? Did I speak out of turn Miss Buffy", the shy redhead asked nervously as she lay the gown to the goosefeather bed.

Buffy felt such ease in the tender fussing of Willow who was her best, if not only, real friend despite the demands of etiquette that were forced on her to think to the contrary. They became an inseparable duo flying in the face of acceptable social grace.

After Willow's mother died whilst in service to the Summers family they had looked kindly upon the redheaded girl and took her in. Even though she was but a servant she looked upon the Summers' as her only family and loved them so.

"No Willow it's just…"

"Just what Miss Buffy?", her friend asked as she sat by her Mistress and held her hand in comfort.

"It's just...I'm sailing halfway around the world to marry a man I have never met."

"But Miss Buffy, it is said that Lieutenant Finn is a fine man of noble standing and destined for a rapid rise in the ranks. Does not every young lady dream of such a marriage?"

"But what of love, Willow? I do not know anything about him, what if he is a cur or a bluebeard or...ugly?"

"Miss Buffy, those romantics of Kensington have your mind befuddled. A baron or a nobleman isn't going to come on a white horse and take you away to his castle where you'll live happy ever after. It is a fine marriage to be sure and does not every young lady need a man? And was it not your father's last request that you be betrothed to Lieutenant Finn?"

Willow flinched as she realised that her words did not carry the comfort she had intended but instead would be the carrier for yet more painful thoughts.

Since her father Henry Summers, the Governor of Newbury and respected academic, perished by the sabre and shot of bloodthirsty Spanish rogues Buffy had been heartbroken. She loved her father and mother dearly and even though she had been sent to a finishing school in London she still wrote them monthly, but since the tragic news came to light her smile now weighed heavy.

She was a skilled flautist and had had entertained the noblesse and courtesans of London society at many an ambassador's soiree in her godfathers' stately home. The man who stood at her christening was one Quentin Travers, a God fearing man whose arrogance was well known about town. He was an old friend of her fathers and following the tumult when the young blond had accidentally burnt down one of the barns on the plantation she had been sent to his home in Greenwich where she was schooled in all the essential skills that a young lady of breeding would need. Her finishing school dictated her life and her education revolved not around equations nor artistry but in deportment and manners.

All this training of womanly ways had created a shell of a lady as she had to erect barriers around her heart forged from hurt and fear just to survive the slings and arrows of London's debutantes. Being the only colonial in Mr Travers' Finishing School For Young Ladies had made her a target of the haughty and condescending students and had bullied her for many a year. But she knew that they were fuelled by scandal and, so that they would not see yet another victory over her, she ignored each barb that pierced her heart until she got home and cried in the arms of Willow.

Her weakness was often scoffed by Mr Travers as they sat for dinner in their finest; he did label her as a simpering wretch which he referred to as her suffering from 'the colonial disease'.

"I'm sure Mr Finn is a fine man but each morn I wake I feel even further from my destiny than ever."

"'Tis not Captain Snyder's fault we were blown so far off course, Miss Buffy"

"He is a man of nil virtue Willow, surely you see how he treats me like I was royalty just because I may have graced a ball or two in the Palace of Versailles ", the blond huffed.

"But you are the Governor's daughter. It would do him well to receive a blessing from you about his gentlemanly treatment"

"I know, It's just...I wish so much was not expected of me. To be a wife and mother before I even leave my teens. I wish...I do so wish..."

"Wish for what Miss Buffy?", the sweet Willow did ask.

"I wish something exciting would happen to me. Like being dragged off on an adventure and finding true love in the strong arms of a dashing young pirate, all pistols and pearly whites…"

"Pirate? No, Miss Buffy do not wish for such things. I can't imagine what a scoundrel of the high seas would do to you"

"But Willow, 'Love looks not with the eyes but with the mind'", she explained showing her adoration of the written word.

Before the young women could continue their banter a distressed call from the deck above silenced them.

"A ship!"

"Bear she friendly colours?", called back the Captain with a note of apprehension clamouring for recognition amongst his words.

"Aye, no wait, 'tis a galleon with a flag of...wait...'tis a black flag with a white skull...a pistol on one side"

"With crimson sails? And the flag, does it have a broken stemmed rose 'neath the skull?"

"Aye, what be it Mr Snyder?"

The Captain cursed his luck as he knew full well as to what manner of brigand did helm such a vessel. A vessel he feared say its name out loud.

"'Tis The Slayer!", he boomed.

A gulp of fear echoed throughout the crew who had heard the tales of terror and vengeance served from the merciless whim of her captain

Down below decks Buffy hung her head a little under the stern scowl of her best friend as it seemed that her wish was to be made true.

Both Faith and Buffy looked up under the same moon little realising that this night both their lives would change forever.


	2. Chapter 2

(A big thankyou to everyone who's read or reviewed. You know who you are, special thanks to Fire Tiger Lily for the inspiration and Raylen who soon shall see my appreciation)

…..

…..

Each darkened wave crashed against the fiercely steered bow of The Slayer, the frothy white crests cowering under the power of the damnable man o' war as it sought out its prey in the gloom of the night. The forked tongue of its figurehead, blasphemous in both design and purpose, leading them on with serpent glare.

"Warren, take the helm", Faith ordered as she tapped her blade impatiently watching with a flaming desire as her bounty crept closer. For when a fight, be it with bare knuckle or fashioned steel, fanned a fire within her heart that neither vengeful man nor cruel deity could turn to ash.

The young man took the wooden wheel in his palms and steered towards The Resolution as he cursed his thumbless hands, the price he had paid at the hands of the French Navy for being the finest cutpurse this side of Shanghai.

The salty air lashed at Faith's face as her smile twisted into a malevolent grin.

"Mr Gunn...if you please", the Captain called out to her positively agog Bo'sun.

With a smile born of fevered assurance he lined up his cannon and let the wisp of his breath, free of rum's bewildering tide, tease the glowing ember of the fuse. A deafening roar echoed across Poseidon's unending domain ending with a terrifying crack of splintering oak as his shot, arrow straight and mercilessly true, shattered the main mast of The Resolution.

Harrowed mariners dived for cover as the great timber crashed down and tore the rigging free to flail at the sky as it fell overboard. Cries of fear and pain did flood the ship as all on board knew that with merely one shot they were left helpless as a bullrush bound infant.

"Good work Mr Gunn", smirked Faith as The Slayer stalked closer to the stricken vessel with the lithe majesty of a panther waiting to unleash its savagery.

Drawing both ravaged cutlass and well notched pistol the crew of miscreants felt the ardour of battle, it filled their hearts with an eagerness seldom felt outside the brothels of Nassau. A purging hunger that they would willingly draw their last breath for if only to feast upon its bloodied carcass once more.

"What's your word Cap'n?", asked Kennedy as she primed her twin flintlocks, forged by Bohemian Master gunsmiths, for she ached to slit pompous gizzard and feel the chill of gold in her hands.

"Let them panic and ready their swords...damn, I can smell their fear from here", crowed Faith as her fingers grasped her sword tighter, "'Tis but a sloop with small crew so Xander, Spike, you lead with me. Anya, Ken, get the grappling hooks. This bounty is ours, are you with me you bastard children of the sea?"

"Aye!", the bloodthirsty throng roared in approval, the lust of a wolf firing their veins. A baying call like heathen song from a ship of vagabonds whose souls had been bartered long ago.

Faith unsheathed her blade and pressed her lips to its silver edge, a superstition of her father, and with one hand on the coarse rigging she felt her heart pound and the salted powder in her veins reach for that spark which would bathe her skin in the blood of her foe.

"Andrew, you stay with Dawn", the Captain said as she pulled from her cold metal kiss and surveyed the eager faces surrounding her.

Dawn, always within reach of Faith, was awash with anger and disappointment as the thin knife clamped between her gleaming teeth loosened and fell.

"Don't look at me like that. I'm the Captain and you're the cabin girl so do as I say or I'll tan your hide", said Faith with hands on her hips watching the fight ebb and flow in the younger girl.

"Come on Dawnie, let's get the fire stoked...and see if we can wake up Satsu", said Andrew beckoning the young girl to him as he was one of the few who did not lust for death nor the glory that accompanied it.

"Dawn, I'm telling you...ow!", squawked Faith as she felt the sharp and pointed kick of the disgruntled maiden slam into her well buckled shin before she stormed off below decks.

Faith sighed as she knew the passion of Dawn for it was the same that stained her own soul, that same impetuous nature and need for battle which had lead the Captain to the precipice of purgatory many times before.

"Damn, she really is your kin", laughed Kennedy as she took a pinch of snuff to her nose, slamming shut the engraved silver box.

"W-what the devil is going on, Captain?", shrieked Buffy through a mask of whitest peril as she and Willow, lead by terror's unholy trance, stepped out onto the deck peppered with shards of wood, torn sail and the cowering forms of mariners holding their bloody wounds.

"Miss Summers, I-I insist you go back inside", called Snyder as he peeked out from behind the wooden stairs, he could hear the approaching hordes of the sea bound maniacs whose bloodlust would ne'er be sated.

His shaking hands held out his sword, a virgin blade that had yet to taste the blood of brigand, and stepped his quaking form back further from the scene of near Biblical judgment.

"Captain, what are you going to do?", called Buffy as Willow's clammy hand gripped tighter to her own as they too could hear the closing ship. A ship of beasts in the guise of men, a callous ilk whose brutality knew no bounds.

"I-I know exactly what to do. Midshipman Finch, run up the colors. No not those, the white flag. Run up the white flag!", he yelled over the pained cries of his crew of few who held their trinket crucifix's closer.

"Surrender? Will you not fight them, Sir?", snapped Buffy in shock as this man who was to be her protector had not the courage to stand.

"They have taken out our main mast and we are but a handful of reserve soldiers where they are an entire crew of cut-throats. We have but four cannon to their fifty"

"Well Sir, if you will not fight...t-then I will", said Buffy as she felt a surge ripple through her. One that negated her refined upbringing as she felt the need to survive, a pluck she never thought possible as she grabbed for his sword.

"Miss Buffy, no!", squealed the redheaded hand maiden and pulled her back.

Though her education had enforced upon her the notion that fragility was the most cherished of feminine virtues, Buffy's stubbornness was shining through more than any beacon 'pon jagged shores.

The fear of the crew rose as the vessel of buccaneers snaked up to their prey. The mettle of the British Navy had been vanquished by one shot of cannon as they fuelled each other's fears with the rumors abound about the dreaded Captain of The Slayer.

"I hear she sets fire to your feet and makes you dance until you die", cried one as he fumbled with his ramrod.

"I hear she straps you to a cannon and blasts your innards all over the briny. Oh mercy, never will I see sweet Pompey again"

"I have heard tell that she sold her soul to the devil and now she feels no pain. No sword nor shot can cut her down and no blood flows from any wound"

"I hear she is a patron of the Isle of Lesbos, the tuppence of a lady is her tongue's desire and so has no need of a man a-and she takes your codlings and wears them as earrings! 'Tis true I tell you!", came the fearful whine of the crew as they crossed themselves.

"I'll never have mother's stew and dumplings again. 'Tis the locker for us and no mistake"

"Enough", Buffy barked as her courage rose and she felt strange. She felt...alive. For the first time in her life her destiny was actually hers to command, not ruled by the judgment of London society or her stern tutors who imposed the merits of Latin and litany on her.

"You two, load your muskets...y-you there give me your sword!", the blond demanded as she wrestled with the mass of petticoats that smothered her legs.

"Nay! Mr Parker and Mr Raylen take her to her cabin and lock her in. The maid too", the Captain said with terror struck eyes.

"Nooo, get off me", Buffy struggled as she was manhandled by callused hands and pushed towards her chamber, "Captain Snyder, stop this!"

"Miss Summers, do as you are told. Raise the white flag!", Captain Snyder ordered much to the young lady's chagrin.

"You can't treat me like this you….you…. ludicrous poppinjay", she said with one final snort as her cabin door slammed shut and the key turned in the lock.

"Quiet with you", he snapped back.

"Let me out...NOW! I am the Governor's daughter..a-a-and you have to do as I say!"

Hearing no word of compliance Buffy simply stomped her heel on the floor and banged on the door as Willow's tears stayed shallow no more. She took her Mistresses hand and pulled them both down so they could see the impending melee through the small window of the cabin. 'Twas a portal between safety and the leer of piratical fancy.

Twisted grappling hooks snared the side of The Resolution and the benighted hollering grew for no flag had yet flied against the sky of a growing violet hue.

"Now!", came the raspy shout of Captain Lehane as they pulled close enough to board.

As Faith leapt on board, her jaunty brogues and tri corner flaring under the sultry moon, her blade flashed true just as the thunderous snap of two musket balls struck her in the chest sending her crashing to the deck. Both crews stopped in their tracks as the Captain, the most feared cutthroat of the seas, had been felled in an instant.

Her eyes closed.

Her body still.

"I-I did it….I killed her", said the small shocked voice of the redcoat as silver phantoms, the purveyors of death, curled from the tang of his barrel.

A hush of reverence befell the seas as all stood around the body.

As the muskets quieted and the rattling of sabres ceased the deathly silence was torn by a deep raspy cough, Faith's dark eyes snapped open and she rose to her feet, laughing the most ruthless of laughs that no mortal should possess.

She rose to her feet and thrust her sword towards the armed crew firing a smirk more debilitating than any volley.

"Good gad, 'tis true. She cannot die….she does not bleed. Please Mistress, do not take my soul and trade it to ol' Nick….nor my codlings", wept the midshipman as he fell to his knees. His britches growing damper as she grinned down with a smile carved of demonic fervour.

"I see you know who I am….. the devil looks after his own", she growled as she stood before them bathed in the eerie light as she twisted her weapon to their throats. 'Twas a blade of finest craftsmanship with the blood of more than a hundred foes having glistened the blessed edge.

Though victory was in her grasp Faith was a glutton for battle and the damnation that followed. The baroque fissures of her heart were fit to burst forth their bile but such a skirmish was snatched from her soured grasp. She wanted a fight not lily livered foes, the Naval crew whimpered and dropped their weapons in surrender as the buccaneers swept through their terrified ranks herding them to the center of the deck.

Faith stood before those who had taken the King's shilling willing one of her captives to be foolhardy enough to fight back, smirking as the small round earrings swung with each nod of her head. The captured jacktars crossed themselves and prayed that they would meet their maker a _whole_ man.

Buffy and Willow gasped as their hands tightened in each other's as they saw the darkened pirate fell by shot but rise again without a single drop of blood spilt. The long stride of this woman cracking on the timbers as she took the ship without the call of eternal solace being heeded on either side.

"What say ye men? Shall we spare these pitiful wretches or put them to the….Dawn! I told you to stay behind. Andrew, I told you to….give that here", Faith snapped as she grabbed the youngster and snatched the pistol from her young hands.

Dawn looked up at Faith, first fear then anger paraded upon her face as she was chided like a mere infant in front of the face of the enemy.

"I call for you _after_ we have their surrender, Dawn. You know that…..but as you are here. Are any of them?", asked Faith nodding towards the uniformed men.

Dawn stared at the sailors and marines alike but shook her head no.

"Alright, now go back to my cabin", said the dark haired Captain with a hint of disappointment nestling in her raspy voice.

Dawn pointed her thin fingers to Snyder then to Faith and waved her hands as her throat constricted around her sounds.

"Yes I will deal with him in my own way. Dawn go back now! I will deal with you later and it will not just be simple strapping this time", Faith growled as her patience waned, she hauled her sister back and pushed her into the hands of Anya who took back aboard The Slayer.

"That girl will be the death of me", the proud Captain sighed as Kennedy shot her a knowing glance.

The fear of the uniformed men had a palpable quality as Faith returned her glare to them and pointed her sword towards Snyder making him step forward, his sword as absent as his dignity.

"So Captain….."

"Snyder"

"Captain Snyder, I take it I have your surrender"

"Yes, yes, we surrender", he replied without making but one honourable deed.

"Men, go see what booty they have which may take my fancy", said Faith as her crew smiled with vindictive glee.

"Mr Snyder", Faith sighed as she held her blade to his neck, "If there's one thing I cannot stand is a caitiff for a captain, no stomach to fight. You should be a squire not a serf"

"But I-I have heard that every Captain who takes up arms against you and lives to tell the tale, they bear the scars of your acquaintance", said Snyder as his hands shook under her chilling glare.

Faith smiled as she pressed her cutlass to his rear. The tales of previous foes were true, that she sliced the buttocks of the Captains she defeated so every time they sat down for the rest of their lives they would think of her. But only those who failed to best her in swordplay would breathe their pain, the rest were silence by the sword.

"Would you dare to try Captain, do you wish for a swift death?", she said as she took the cutlass from Lorne, who was more adept at wielding a mortise, and threw it to Snyder.

Stepping forward he raised the blade in petrified hands as Faith circled his portly frame.

"If you can land but one blow then you and your men will go free", she offered as though she was a woman of vile infamy Faith felt life was a game of chance.

"B-but I've seen it with my own eyes, you cannot bleed and cannot die"

"One blow…that is all I ask", Faith said with mockery etched into each word.

At the growing roar of encouragement from The Slayer's crew his sweating hands gripped the blade as he lunged at Faith. She whipped round and her cutlass took the wild strike of Captain Snyder, he swung his sword like a scared child, with neither grace nor skill. The crew stepped back and formed a circle as he thrust again and again only for each blow to be dodged and parried , the clashing of steel rang out like sirens song. The taunting bays of the pirates surrounded them as Faith laughed fending off each strike wondering if he would be more suited to a bludgeoning art rather than a match of skill.

"Hey, look what we found", yelled Spike as he dragged the struggling form of Buffy out onto the deck.

Faith's eyes, accustomed to rare gems and sparkling beauty, bulged as she saw the blonde. Her sumptuous bosom and firm bodice captured Faith's eyes, the rum ogles before her swallowing her whole. Her hindquarters, though covered with a fine bustle, enslaved Faith to its mysterious shape. The Captain, no stranger to womanly wiles, felt her throat turn drier than the most salted of mutton.

Though Captain Lehane had been witness to many things whilst sailing the briny, things which defied both logic and the word of The Lord, she had no explanation for the sight before her. A wondrous beauty that seared her rage, an angelic face with golden hair that could tempt any soul to a watery grave.

"Argh, you...", cried Faith as she felt the blade slice into her arm. She rounded and cursed herself for being distracted enough for Snyder to land a cutting blow.

Faith felt the blood soaking into the black of her coat and glared as Snyder who thrust once more, she pushed his sword away with ease and slammed her embittered knuckles into his pasty face leaving him sprawling on the deck.

But no cheers or smile did spill from Faith's cherried lips as she stood over the bleeding Captain, she felt the uncommon pang of humiliation that she allowed a rum cove like Snyder to win his life back. Faith span round back to face her distractor who had cost her dear.

"Unhand me you fiend", cried Buffy as Spike brutishly hauled her across the deck stepping over the splintered wood and a bloodied Snyder.

Faith's first thought was to strike her crewmate for so roughly manhandling such a treasure but not wanting to lose face in front of her crew the Captain stayed silent as her father's grave. For her pride was a precious gift she had fought hard and fought well to gain and would remain resolute.

"I said get off you mangy swine", yelled Buffy as she span round on her sliver of beribboned heels and slapped Spike.

The Englishman snorted and raised a hand of his own to the blonde ready to strike back.

"Enough!", yelled Faith stopping her crewmates hand before it swung.

"W-w-we...", Captain Lehane coughed as she tried not to blush at her stammering but this woman of slight build had instantly bewitched her, "Well, well, what do we have here?"

Buffy stood on the deck before the Captain of dubious character who stepped forward with idle cutlass still in hand.

"Don't you dare hurt Miss Buffy", Willow yelled as she struggled against the coarse hands of Xander and Mr Gunn.

"Miss..._Buffy_?", Faith chuckled with a raised eyebrow as she looked the finely dressed young lady up and down.

"My _**name**_ is Elizabeth, my friends call me Buffy, but _**you**_ can call me Miss Summers", she snorted in the haughty way the only years of polite English society would engrave on such a girl. She smoothed down her skirt which billowed from the waist, the corset strands not yet fully fastened such was her desire to face her doom like a true lady.

"Very well _Miss_ Summers", Faith mocked with an overly grand bow, "I am Captain Faith Lehane, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance"

As Faith took a step towards Buffy she was blocked by Willow once more coming between the brunette and her prize.

"Ahem…. Miss Summers, who is this?", Faith sneered at the shy redhead whose tenacity intrigued the Captain.

"This is my hand maiden Willow"

"Ma'am", said the shy redhead as she took a step forward and curtsied out of habit as the crew roared with amusement. She blushed fiercely as they mocked her grace and manners.

"Well how do you do _m'lady_", Kennedy laughed as she took a deep bow in front of the shame faced girl.

"I think we can ignore formalities ladies. I admire such loyalty in a woman", said Faith to the maid who, even though she trembled in fear, would not back down.

"I won't let you harm Miss Buffy", the redhead growled surprising herself at the ferocity with which her devotion roared.

"Oh I like this one, she's feisty. Can I keep her?", asked Kennedy as she strolled up beside Willow flicking at the flaming locks.

"Harm a treasure like she? Do I have a reason to?"

"You are a pirate, it's what you do", snapped Buffy with all the haughtiness of fine breeding and a classical education.

"Then I give you my word as a pirate that no harm shall come to you aboard my vessel", Faith smiled with a sincerity she seldom used on her cargo.

"And what is that worth? The word of a pirate", Buffy snorted.

Such a notion angered the good Captain and so took a stride closer to her blond captive 'til their faces were mere inches away.

"I give you..._**my**_ word", the brunette stressed hoping to show her caddish repute that circled the seas was, to a certain degree, mere folly. But the light scent of jasmine that emanated from the puffed-up blonde confounded her as she breathed in the gentle aroma.

"I know of you _Captain_ Lehane. I've heard tell of you and your ship, forsaken by both God and man. I have read of you in the Boston News-Letter, Governor Rogers has named you in the 'pirates wanted' circular", said Buffy trying hard not to blush for the mere presence of this domineering woman befuddled her senses,

"And?"

"And I believe you to be a most sinful brigand and the foulest of cur"

The crew laughed heartily at such a moniker being slung at their beloved Captain but Buffy ignored their cackles as she rallied her conceit to her cause.

"I think you are a black hearted scoundrel who will swing from the gallows as soon as Lieutenant Finn knows about you kidnapping me!", she continued.

"Lieutenant Finn? I have heard of him. How do you come to know of that lily livered jackanapes?"

"Lieutenant Finn is my bethrothed and once he finds out what villainy you have unleashed, every manjack of the Navy will hunt you down and..."

"Quiet!", snapped Faith.

"No!"

Not used to being disrespected in such a way, especially by a mere slip of a girl, Faith took umbrage at such a tone.

"I said hold your tongue wench... lest my lackeys flog that pretty skin of yours", she growled as her knuckles tightened on the hilt of her sword which now rested in its sheath once more.

Buffy's eyes widened and she flinched as she saw Faith grasp her weapon for she was unsure as to what was idle threat and what was imminent gesture.

"Hmm, a pretty one like this should fetch a pretty price", said Anya as rejoined the crew seeing Buffy's potential as mere commodity

"True, I can imagine a bidding war for such a jewel. Spike, see to the King's finest", called the Captain.

"Gladly"

The Englishman, whose back bore the crimson signs of a mutinous way, shoved the crew of The Resolution into one of the longboats and threw their dazed Captain amongst them. Casting off he tossed a hessian sack to the adrift Kingsmen and shook his head at how the smile of a lady had saved their lives.

"You can't do that...'tis monstrous. 'Tis murder, your heart really is black as Newgate's knocker. Holy mother of God you are…", Buffy blustered at Faith as her crew reboarded their ship.

"What?"

"You really are everything I've ever heard about aren't you?", Buffy croaked as her heart crusted over. Though it was adventure she sought now that she was in one she feared for her life, her friend and even her chastity.

"Well then Miss Summers I would hate to disappoint you", said Faith as she flashed a sneer at the stuck up blonde girl, "Warren, let it burn"

Buffy's mouth fell open as she watched the decadent crew throw flaming torches deep within the hold of The Resolution whose stock of mead and meat now sat on The Slayer. Her fear had now crept back into her eyes but she knew if Captain Lehane was indeed all that her legend spoke of, then Buffy would have to wear the same mask she wore at finishing school in order to cast off the barbed words and gestures that were to come her way.

"Ladies, if you would step this way", asked Faith mockingly gesturing to her own vessel.

"I would never..."

"Then feel free stay on your ship...while it burns"

Willow and Buffy stood holding sweaty hands as their bravery shrivelled as dread once more commandeered their senses. Their corsets constricted a little more as their breath heavied within them as they realised they had little choice in the matter as they stepped from one ship to the other. One had been their home, one would be their gaol.

Buffy held her head up high and threw her bare shoulders back as if she had a foul smell under her nose, she stormed forward summoning all her years of training and her inbred haughtiness radiated from her. Though inside she quaked with fear at what was to come their way.

Her ever present neckerchief flapped in the growing breeze Kennedy looked down with a strange feeling stirring within her as they all boarded The Slayer. The redhead girl was a beauty, that was a given, but the latina buccaneer felt something deeper, something stronger than lust. It confounded her as she was much like her Captain in her casting aside of sultry lasses once their pleasure had quenched.

"Fine work men, another hull to add to our tally", said Faith with repellent amusement as they cast away from the burning wreck that was The Resolution, the gaunt silhouettes of the longboat soon fading from sight.

"B-but why set f-fire to….", stammered out Willow as she felt her very salvation being snuffed out with each stray ember that pirouetted against the sky which was speedily welcoming the day.

"One less ship to chase us", shrugged Xander as he hauled up the main sail for a swift escape.

"And yea I shall walk through the valley of the shadow of death I shall fear no evil", Buffy said in a hushed tone as she prepared for the worst. But her rigorous upbringing swelled to the surface and decreed that if she were to perish then she would do it as God intended, as a lady.

"I see you have faith, but not the kind you need", whispered the Captain as she swept past and stood in front of her brigade of outlaws smiling widely.

Faith stood proud as she pressed her finger to her loose blouse, touching the scorched holes where the musket balls tore through with ease. She reached one hand up her back and pulled a string allowing her concealed lead breastplate to fall to the deck amidst a hail of laughs which she joined in with a vehemence that Be'elzebub himself would envy. The secret of her supposed immortality revealed.

"Miss Summers, Maid Willow…. I welcome thee aboard The Slayer... as my guests"

"I know what a vile loathsome creature you are but if I….."

"Please mind your words Miss Buffy, w-what if they make us walk the plank or maroon us on a hostile shore or, shame of all shames, what…..what if they make us the ship's concubines?", squealed Willow in a rebuking tone of fear.

"Hey, that job taken", said the rum ravaged voice of a woman who stumbled from the cabin. Her bustier was barely laced and her skirt slit high.

"Satsu, good to see you're finally awake. You look as queer as Dick's hatband", snorted Spike as he watched the bedraggled damsel of an ailing morality come forward.

"I feel it too. So these women ours? She pay more for be with me", said the oriental with a broken manner of language as her head still swam with the tide of liquor.

"Not now Satsu, just go and tell Andrew to make ready for I will dine at five bells, I know it be well past the witching hour but plundering does build a hearty appetite. Miss Summers you will take breakfast with me"

"You? I shall not break bread and make merry with someone like you", huffed Buffy.

"Someone like me? And who am I _Miss_ Summers?", retorted the Captain.

"You are the most villainous of evils ever to make port, was it not you who slaughtered the crew of The Hispaniola for a single chest of damask? Was it not you who raided New Amsterdam and sank the King's frigate? I will see myself damned before I share a glass with you", spat the young lady as she rekindled the fight within her. Though she had no skill with a blade her words were as cutting as any as Faith had heard.

"Let me put it another way Miss Summers, you either dine with me….. or Davy Jones"

"I…I…"

"Then it is settled. Mr Gunn will escort you to below where you may ready. You may take your lady's maid with you"

Buffy stared at the skilled Master Of Arms and let her eyes open widely like a bloom on a spring morn.

"What is it?", asked Faith as she took in the look of her new prize.

"B-but he is a negro. Should he not be in chains?"

A mist, as red as the waters of a plague ridden Egypt, swept through Faith's eyes as she threw her hat to the deck with rage and thrust her beringed finger into the flinching face of the effete blonde , no fiercer broadside would she encounter on the high seas than the rage of Captain Lehane.

"There are **no** chains aboard The Slayer Miss Summers! Mr Gunn is a free man and a loyal member of my crew...if you talk to him or any of my crew in such a manner again and I'll have your pretty tongue removed. There are no whips nor shackles on my ship. Here we are all free. We pay heed to no flag and tribute to no King"

"B-but Miss, you speak treason", Buffy gasped in shock.

"Fluently", smirked the battle hardened Captain.

"I-I will see you scragged before I let you speak against His Majesty", snapped Buffy defensively.

"Then I will speak my apologies from his Norway neckcloth. Mr Gunn take her below", barked out Faith as her captives were lead away with a fading struggle, "Lorne, take a heading sou-sou'east"

"Jawohl, mein Kapitan", replied the ships carpenter of Silesian stock as he trusted Faith's word more than he trusted her own senses for their Captain needed no map nor compass, she knew the seas intimately like an eternal lover.

"You mean?", asked Kennedy as she lit her clay pipe.

"Aye, we are bound for the Promethean Straits. Anya, at first light send a message to The Wolfram, tell them of our prize. I have to deal with Dawn", said Faith with gusto as she stole away to her cabin for there was a matter of urgency she had to resolve.

Anya silently nodded as she softly stroked the feathers of one her beloved pigeons and readied it for flight relaying the missive to Captain Angelus. She felt sorrow rise its mournful head as Anya knew that the young girls defiance would not be tolerated, her own scars bore testament to such a short lived notion of rebellion.

In the quiet of her cabin Faith sat down on the side of the small bed and pulled Dawn's shoulders until the young girl turned to face her penance, but the youngling saw not rage but a dimpled face of familial warmth.

"Dawnie, you know I would never take the strap to you, I was just saying that to save face in front of the crew, but you cannot disobey me like that or others will get ideas. Do you understand?"

The child nodded back sheepishly as Faith put her fingers under Dawn's chin and raised her head.

"I left you here as there is no-one I trust more to take charge of my ship", the rogue woman smiled down lovingly.

Dawn look puzzled and held one small hand over her eye.

"No, not even Xander. Now you need your sleep as it's nearly first light, night-night honey", the Captain said tenderly as she brushed a few stray hairs from the cherubic face of her sister.

Faith went to leave but felt a sharp tug at her sleeve as Dawn pressed her fingertip to her thumb making an O shape and held it to her mouth.

"You want a song?"

Dawn silently nodded back and flashed her sparkling teeth as she loved to hear the soft tones of the Captain knowing that she would be the only one ever to hear them.

"Very well, now let's see...ah, I got the one...

_I've travelled a bit, but was never hit_

_Since my roving career began_

_But and fair and square I surrendered there_

_To the charms of young Rose McCann__._

_I'd a heart to let and no tenant yet_

_Did I meet with in shawl or gown_

_But in she went and I asked no rent_

_From the star of County Down_"

Dawn's eyes closed, her breath still and easy as slumber took its victim to an idyllic realm. Faith ran her fingers across the flushed cheek of her sister and pressed her lips to the young girl's forehead, tucking the blankets in tightly.

Faith sneaked back out of the cabin closing the door quietly and smiled sadly at the sleeping girl knowing the pain which scoured at Dawn's very being.

"He-he, can you imagine what they would say if they found out the terror of the Caribbean sang lullabies to a child", smirked Kennedy as she sat on a barrel and sharpened her sword.

"Ken, do you like having fingers?", Faith growled back.

"Easy Cap'n, I were merely joshin'. So this Buffy woman. You are to dine with her?"

"And?"

"Since when did **you** treat a woman like she was royalty?", scoffed the trusted First Mate.

"I have no need to explain my actions to you Ken"

"So I see. But do you really think it's wise to stay on this course?", asked Kennedy barely concealing her true meaning.

"Aye", replied Faith as she took the pipe from her First Mate's mouth and placed it in her own.

"But what of_**her**_? Should we not meet with Angelus first?"

"Nay. We shall meet when I decide and no sooner. Lorne, hold her steady."

"So we really are going?"

"Aye….to The Hellmouth!"


	3. Chapter 3

"Helloooo? Oh there you are Miss, the Captain said you are to wear this dress when you dine with her", said Andrew, cursed with a most sensitive soul, as he came in to the cabin flouncing out a gown of finest red silk bedecked with bows and a lace trimmed décolletage.

"Oh she did, did she? Well you can tell your Captain that I will **not** play to the tune of her coarsely plucked harp", scoffed Buffy as she crossed her lithe arms over her bountiful chest. The sparkling vaults of heaven had sealed its gates once more as the bright rays of the rising sun shone true into the gaily decorated boudoir which Anya and Xander had been ordered to turn over to their guests.

"Her words always ring true my lady; either dine with her or..."

"I know, I know...hmph, fine", Buffy snorted as she snatched the dress from his dainty hands and, after a second of hesitation, held it up to herself.

The gown was gorgeous and shimmied in the candlelight, a radiant sheen offsetting the retreating gloom of the spartan cabin. Buffy tried to despise said garment, stitched with the finest of care and intricate design, but it was more beautiful than any she had ever seen draped on the noblesse ladies of Europe. It felt so smooth and slipped through her fingers as if borne of liquid.

"If it needs adjusting just call for me, I am Andrew and most knowledgeable to the ways of the needle. Trust me fair maiden, though it be of a most tiresome fabric, you will look divine.", the sallow skinned man said with a high pitched squeal before returning to the galley.

"Miss Buffy, do you think he is...?", asked Willow in confusion.

"A man who is known to pootle? I know not", said Buffy as she spied herself in the dusty mirror and smiled as she knew the gown would look stunning on her.

"Oh Miss Buffy, you are not seriously considering dining with such a foul wretch as the Captain?", gasped Willow in alarm at seeing her Mistress' giddy smile.

"I...oh...I mean...I _**do**_ have to stall her until Lieutenant Finn comes to rescue us"

"B-but what if he fails to find us? W-what if we are flogged or traded to some hook handed opium Lord of the East Indies and..."

"Willow, calm down. You really have to stop reading those penny novellas from the hawkers of Spittalfields", sighed the young lady.

"B-but Miss Buffy, what if ...i-if she..."

"Willow please! I shall dine with her and that is all. I have to play nice for a while until I can find something to help our escape. Fear not my beloved Willow, I will get us out of this", Buffy assured as they shared a warm and comforting embrace as the gentle heave of The Slayer took them far from their intended port.

"Now help me ready"

As the dress tightened on her Mistress' delicate frame Willow gushed as Buffy looked more elegant than she had ever seen her. The red headed maid swept up the golden locks, though thickened with the salted air, into a sweet chignon and with the passing of sand through the hourglass, the Lady was near ready.

"Oh Miss Buffy, you look so beautiful"

"Really?", Buffy smiled back feeling like a princess before replenishing her facade of distaste, "I mean if the Captain wants me to wear it then who am I to refuse. 'Tis for our own good"

"Of course Miss", Willow said with a knowing smile. "This Captain Lehane, what manner of lady would embark on such a life? A privateer in petticoats is unthinkable, don't you agree Miss Buffy?"

"I…er, indeed. A lady should be of a gentile nature, not a swashbuckling rogue", replied the blonde girl as she touched up her rouge.

"But what if the rumours are true? What if she is of ...I mean, what if she really be a woman of..."

"If she offends me I will **not **mind my place and shall not hesitate to tell her of her foul ways."

"But Miss Buffy, if she is co callous as to set adrift a hearty half dozen souls in the middle of the ocean who knows what wrath you will incur if you should irk her", worried the ladies maid.

"I care not, she is but a pirate and I am a lady. She is not fit to buckle my footman's shoes", pooh-poohed Buffy as she hauled her pomposity upon her visage once more.

"Please Miss Buffy, do nothing to antagonise her"

"You would be wise to heed your maids words, Miss", said Oz as he entered the cabin fluffing his characteristically Spanish suit of black taffeta.

"Oh Sir, how dare you enter a lady's chamber without knocking!", snapped Willow as she tried to cover up Buffy who, by Willows judgment, was still undressed with her lips still yet to be preened.

"I do apologise ladies. It's been many moons since I had to toe the line of polite society. But where are my manners?"

"You have some?", said Buffy looking down her nose at the soberly dressed man.

"Please dear lady, you should do what I say and…"

"And who are you to tell me what to do? But you _do_ seem like an educated man, why are you here amongst these ruffians?"

"Well Miss Summers, let us just say I was a courtier to the lord Bacchus and an unrepentant debtor. But wait, I fear we have not been formally introduced, Doctor Daniel Osbourne at your service Miss."

His coat and breeches were of plain homespun, his plain castor, unadorned by band or feather, sat uniquely upon his crown as he doffed said hat in respect.

"I was being transported to the colonies to spend my days tilling the fields in shackles when The Slayer took us. As a man of medicine I was deemed invaluable and permitted to stay, I believe that was two years ago now and this crew, ruffians and pirates they may be, they are my family"

"So you went from sot to sabre that easily?"

"It is not all about bloodshed on this vessel, it is about freedom"

"Well I am sure your Captain will change her values once she reads this", scoffed Buffy as she held forth a parchment bearing her godfather's seal.

"What is it?"

"'Tis is a letter of introduction to my fiancé Lieutenant Finn"

"I fear you may be mistaken in such an endeavour Miss, words of a fine penmanship will mean little to her"

"Why not? How could anyone ignore such a…..wait….can she not read? My word, she must be as stupid as she is evil", Buffy snorted cruelly.

"Miss, I must advise you that the good Captain is a woman not to be crossed, though she may have been summoned to sea by vagrant's call, to be a gypsy of the tides, she is well acquainted with the written word and be smarter than what maritime hearsay may suggest", Oz rebuked with arching lips.

An impasse befell the occupants of the cabin, a stubborn lady of etiquette and a gentleman whose loyalty was fused to his very bones. Neither would back down from their glaring stations but the redhead, cast into the background, daringly broached the silence.

"Tell me Doctor, is it true about the Captain….. t-that she hungers for….a woman's….", stammered Willow shyly.

"Let us just say… that she worships at the altar of the goddess Sapphira", smirked the good Doctor as he leaned against the beams of the ship which slowly listed under the growing light of day.

"Then be that her plan for me?", asked Buffy, " To make my head swim with wine perchance to slip her fingers twixt my bloomers?"

"Miss Buffy!", squealed Willow with a blush, shocked at her Mistress' crude language.

"Sorry", said Buffy with a blush as she shocked even herself that such profanity was at her tongue's disposal.

"I…..your galley boy, Andrew, be he…?", said Buffy.

"Be he what?", replied the Doctor.

"Be he of the sodomitic clan?", asked Buffy as Willow blushed with a dervish like ferocity, swooning at her Lady's coarse words.

"Well let us just say…..yes. But he is a son of The Slayer, it is not for us to judge each other. We traverse on tides that take us ever closer to the dragoons of death, each morn may be our last so we live without piety or the decrees of man", defended Oz.

"Oh sweet Mary, Miss Buffy. What are we to do?", said Willow as she crossed herself.

"Well….first and foremost I will dine with the Captain. Now if you do not mind Doctor, I need to finish readying"

"Oh course Miss.", said Oz with a bow as he heaved himself from his casual perch but stopped before he reached the door and turned back to the young ladies.

"But my words remain valid Miss Buffy, it would serve you well to stay in favour with the Captain. Do you know of Captain Angelus?"

"I have heard tell of his misdeeds, a vicious cad I hear"

"He is worse than you could imagine. The accord between Faith and Angelus means they share their bounty, whatever or _**whom**_ever it may be. If she lets you be traded to him you will know suffering like no other, I have tended the wounds of those Angelus has taken displeasure with.", said Oz with such horror and sadness wetting his dusty eyes. "Well, I will leave you now ladies"

Oz closed the cabin door as Willow gripped her Mistress' hand. Her fear shaking her from her very core.

"Oh may the lord have mercy upon us Miss Buffy, we are trapped 'pon this foul Gomorrah of the seas. What _**are**_ we to do?", said Willow.

"It will be alright my sweet Willow"

"But Miss Buffy, if she….and he….and if they…but what if we were to fall foul of ….", sobbed Willow as she was so far removed from her world of blacking the grate and polishing the silver in the pantry that her terror consumed her whole.

"Willow calm yourself"

"NO!", yelled Willow forgetting her station, "_**You**_ asked for such an adventure _**not I**_ and now you have doomed us both and we shall be…."

"Willow!", Buffy said as she slapped her maids face stopping the hysterics and tears.

"It will be alright my sweet Will, fear nothing and we shall overcome. Ever since your mother died at stool have I not always looked out for you? It will all be fine, I swear", said Buffy as she hugged her friend dearly. She had never raised a finger to her maid before, though London society encouraged a Lady to use such means to keep her servants in their place, and it illed her soul. But Buffy knew they had to be strong for this was not the time to show weakness.

A sharp rapping of the door rang out as Kennedy entered without hearing a call of enter. Her empty scabbard swinging 'gainst her leg as she looked over the two ladies and let out a low whistle of a lustful pitch.

"Mana de dios, you look stunning m'lady. Glad to see you've seen sense and decided to wear the dress"

"Well what choice was I left with? Wear the dress or I'll tie you to the anchor, I think your Captain has a lot to learn about manners"

"This is a pirate ship Miss Summers, and being out here a week without scurvy or ocean madness is a blessing indeed. So be you ready?"

Buffy refused to answer. She simply raised her head high, grasped her skirts of a puffing volume and strutted from the cabin in a manner she felt more suited to a lady of fine breeding like herself.

Kennedy shook her head slightly, before she closed the door she gave a cursory glance to Willow and smiled, an offering of sanctuary in these troubled times. The redhead blushed as she caught herself smiling back before she was left alone in the cabin which, out of instinct, she began to tidy.

Buffy stepped out on to the deck bereft of buccaneer, the golden sun flickering against the quiet horizon and sweeping over the crimson canvas that flapped above her, the smell of tar and spun yarn wafting in the gilded haze. She set her feet before her as her soft eyes cast down to the table and chairs carved of the finest oak. Buffy gasped as laid out before her was more a feast fit for a brigade of ravenous jack-tars than breakfast for but two.

Silver plates of suckling pig, lush grapes and sea bass all sat majestically on the embroidered tablecloth, the finest of plundered Spanish wines sat in the glasses silently awaiting the ladies pleasure. All under the soft glow of the sun whom was shaking from its celestial slumber. Buffy's stomach growled, pinioned under the corset as her thin heels clipped upon the scrubbed deck.

The door of the Captain's cabin swung open and Buffy's eyes grew even wider as the much feared pirate, libertinous by both name and feat, stepped out on to the deck. Gone were the powder scoured breeches and long coat stained with scarlet's unending flow, replaced by a loose white shirt, her unruly mass of curls snared and tied back with a black silken ribbon fastened into a neat bow.

Stepping from the shadows Faith emerged into the light, her long leather boots lead up to the tight pantaloons where her wide belt was topped off with a sliver belt buckle shaped like a skull with diamonds where its eyes should be. Even in the growing light of day Faith's smile shone brighter than any celestial beacon brightening the deck as Buffy found herself trying not to smile back.

"By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes", murmured Buffy drawing upon her classical education as she reaffirmed her pomposity, a masque that no ball could ever enrichen.

"Wicked?", said Faith, her brows knit, as she stood in front of her guest, "Wicked is not a word I care to use"

"But by deed and manner you are all that is wicked in this world"

"I care not for such judgment", replied the Captain flippantly as she drew her pistol and placed it on the table, her sword soon followed nestling amongst the moist roast and exotic fruits cradled in carefully inscribed bowls.

"I….er….'tis a fine blade", said Buffy veering her words into favourable waters hoping to engage the Captain in frivolous banter before she could plot her flight.

"Thank you, it's ceremonial, for show only. I took from the Captain of The Hart before we sent it to the depths. Not much good in battle though, I only wear it for _special_ occasions"

"And be this a fitting occasion for such frivolities?"

"I would deem it so. You look beautiful Miss Summers, the dress suits you well"

"Well I…I...well… you _are_ the Captain and I am your guest apparently, though prudence would dictate that I should should deny you the pleasure of my company. But I must ask, why does one have such a fine gown on this ship?", Buffy asked gesturing to the arc of the dress which covered her from bosom to toe.

"I took it from a trader just off The Barbary Coast. But I never met a lady beautiful enough to wear it….. to do it justice"

Buffy's face reddened a little at the compliment and felt annoyed with herself not just for blushing, but for enjoying such kindly words. Her skin felt the sharpened flame of shame pierce her though she knew not why her ardour should grow so. Though she wore a mask of superiority inside she felt a warmth she knew not as, though she was yet to marry, she was also yet to be wooed.

"May I?", asked Faith as she held up a stunning necklace with a large sapphire set firm within it's golden frame.

"Are you trying to buy my favour like I was some kind of common harlot?", her voice crisp and precise.

"Miss Summers, 'tis nothing but a fine trinket and it would do you well to accept it", said Faith, her casual threat barely veiled.

Buffy just nodded and turned so that the well dressed brunette could fasten it around her slender neck. Her mind felt revolted at having to play such a part, a damsel in distress held at the whim of a rogue like this. But in her heart she felt strangely aroused that this woman with such a scornful repute could be so tender, the Captains battle hardened fingers taking but glancing touches of Buffy's creamy skin making the Lady shiver in a way she most unaccustomed to. She had to remind herself that Faith was not her hostess but her captor and so stiffened her resolve to be as curt as she could.

"So tell me, what manner of name is Lehane?", Buffy started with a cunning aloofness as Faith pulled out her chair for her guest allowing her to sit.

"My kin were from the emerald isle but when Cromwell and his men took our land and set torch to their home they left for the new world. Hoping for a new life….. but life is seldom what you dream, do you not think?"

"Well Captain Lehane…."

"Please, call me Faith", replied the Captain as she belied her very nature by nervously playing with the enchanting cameo on her velvet choker as she sat opposite the beguiling young lady.

"And I expect you want me to allow you to call me Buffy?"

"I will call you whatever I want", said Faith as her smile dropped a little.

"No you shall not"

"Oh yes I shall, there are no airs or graces on my vessel, hell, I will even call you B if I like"

"B?", quizzed the Lady.

"Yes, for Buffy", smirked the pirate.

"B-but such intimacy is not heard of, a lady should always be addressed in a manner befitting her status,' tis the way of the world", blustered Buffy, her façade slipping a notch.

"Of _**your**_ world maybe. Look, Miss Summers. All your fancy education and manners mean nothing out here. This is the real world. A world of blood and of pain. I think curtsies and lace doilies are of little use out here and I have no time for plumped up courtesans and ludicrous dandies. Those of us who live by the bottle and die by the sword, our world is little but death and bloody vengeance not high tea, piano recitals and fancy frocks. It is all about bravery and loyalty"

"Bravery? Loyalty? Do you not think it was brave of me to cross to another continent to finish my schooling? Thousands of miles from my home and family, all alone and being the only colonial of fine stock in London and having to take all the discourtesy and slanderous remarks thrown at me by the other ladies of Greenwich society. I stayed loyal to my family and my country without having to resort to violence and bloodshed. So don't you dare lecture me on bravery _**Captain**_ Lehane", Buffy said with scorn.

"I have not the heart nor patience to discuss such matters now", sighed Faith with a smirk. "But you have a tongue with an unfettered tang, such a notion amuses me"

"_Amuses you?_ You think of me as a buffoon? A well dressed harlequin?"

"Ha-ha, you really be something B"

"I told ye not to use such a familiar term!", huffed the blonde woman whose corset bit and held her fast as her snide tone blossomed within her lungs.

"Would you care for some pork, 'tis fresh", said Faith as she carved the succulent meat, steam emanating from the sliced carcass making Buffy's hunger pang against her well bound torso.

"I would rather starve than take fodder from a heathen soul like yours", she replied turning her nose up and head away from the brunette who found her guest to be most mirthsome.

"Fair enough but I imagine you're pretty hungry so help yourself. I will not think less of you for using the wrong fork, your well-bred society may damn you for it but I am not inclined."

Buffy couldn't believe her ears for not only did this woman drink and swear she also abused the King's English in a most heinous manner but she relented and accepted the offered foods that danced upon her plate.

"Are you not going to say grace?", Buffy quizzed in her most innocent of faux voices as Faith stabbed her fork into the steaming vegetables.

"Why? "

"To thank the lord for his bounty"

"I…_fine…_go ahead", sighed Faith as she dropped her food to the plate with a sharpened strike of silver upon china and watched with a strange stirring within her as Buffy lowered her head and clasped her hands before her meek self.

"Expulsis piratis, restituta commercial", she said solemnly.

"Pirates expelled, commerce restored?", smirked Faith shocking Buffy from her mock reverence.

"You know of such words?

"I know the motto of the Bahamas, I once had respect for Captain Woodes-Rogers when he was pirate but once he turned on us I had no taste for him"

"Who better to make Governor? The British authorities knew a man of such experience would be invaluable against the likes of you, God rest his soul"

"Hmmf", Faith grunted as she set about her food with vigour.

Buffy took her knife and fork and delicately sliced the meat, putting each small piece into her mouth as her back remained ramrod straight. As she acted like the very epitome of a Lady she knew, watching the slouched form of her captor, that she had the upper hand. A hand to be played with the most delicate of touches.

"But tell me, how does vermin like you know of the words of Governor Woodes-Rogers?"

Faith stopped chewing and stared at the blonde woman, the insult obvious but overlooked.

"Have you ever heard of Richard Wilkins?"

"No, should I have?"

"He was a gentleman pirate, a true nobleman of the sea and Captain of The Ascension. I was but a child when I stowed away on his ship when it made port in Boston. When I was found I put up such a fight that he was impressed enough to take me in and raise me as his own. He taught me to duel, to know the waves without need for map nor compass, and…. he taught me how to read."

"And you repaid him by becoming a pirate like he?"

"How do you repay a man who teaches you to write your own name?", said Faith with the gravest of scowls.

Buffy sipped at her wine, gently pressing her napkin to the corners of her mouth as she warily glanced around the deck. There was only Lorne at the helm, the only sounds were gentle waves lapping at the hull and the muted cries of sated lust from Satsu plying her trade below decks.

"He was the finest man I have ever known, though I was not borne of him he was truly my father and each night I bid him well within the glare of the Northern star. After several years had passed we captured a Spanish galleon and rechristened it The Slayer and made me Captain as he trusted me like no other. It must be three winters past since he was ambushed by the British Navy, he was slain in the fight and since then…..", Faith trailed off as her tears pooled in her eyes, her wine sitting uncertain in the fine glass.

"Since then you became a ruthless slayer of man and beast alike?", mocked Buffy snapping Faith from her sorrowed memories.

"Father taught me well and that death should only come to those who asked for it, if someone raises their blade to you then it is your God given right to take them down."

"But why do you tell me of such things?"

"I…. know not, I just….nevermind", sighed Faith as she battled to keep her blush from blossoming. She was shocked to find herself opening up her scabrous heart to this young woman, she felt such comfort within the gaze of Buffy that for reasons she was not yet to understand, her words of sorrow slipped with ease from her painted lips.

Faith shrugged off her tunic showing her smooth arms and let her treasure of a chest ensnare Buffy's eyes which opened wide at such a display of skin. The well-mannered young lady pulled her gaze free from the curvaceous divinity of Faith's bosom to settle upon the distinctive ink circling the Captain's arm.

"A-a-a tattoo?"

"Indeed, I got in Mumbai, or at least I think it was Mumbai, my head was awash with rum that night. It was a birthday present from my Fa..."

"He got you drunk...a..and tattooed?"

"Well it _**was**_ my fifteenth, B"

Buffy's mouth once more fell open in shock as she remembered her own fifteenth birthday that included tea with the ambassador from Lisbon and spending several hours listening to harpists and making polite conversation before retiring early whilst the gentlemen of the house took their brandy. Buffy shook her head, was it jealously she was feeling? To be so free and alive? But at such a cost to both body and soul.

A silence descended upon them both, unsure as to their next words, but for different reasons.

The soft lilt of a fiddle swam down from the crow's nest where Amy slowly drew her strings with the resonance of angels, Faith's head raised up and a wide smile skimmed across her face before she looked back at her dining companion.

"B?"

"Yes?

Buffy was shocked that she responded to such a charmless sobriquet, it was not the informality shown by the Captain that shocked her but the fact that Buffy felt somehow enchanted by the name. Though such notions would raise a brow in scandal fevered London, the lack of formality enticed Buffy, how it flew in the face of how she was raised and, despite what her outer haughty shell would have the Captain believe, she liked the name B, but most of all she liked the way it sounded when Faith said it.

Faith rose to her feet and offered her hand out to Buffy

"B, would you care to dance?"

"Do you jest?", asked Buffy in shock, but seeing as she had to bide her time well and to stay in favour with the Captain she felt strangely compelled to accept the offer.

"Nay"

"Then I suppose I would…..I mean… I _should_", she replied hoping that this charade would not last too much longer as she could feel her mettle withering with each kind word and thoughtful gesture from this women whom she was taught to despise. But could all those stories about Faith really be wrong? After all she did abandon the crew of The Resolution out at sea.

_'What wrong with me? She is vile...a-and a pig...and a pirate! No, Buffy don't fall for her tricks, it's Lieutenant Finn you are going to marry, it's __**he**__ you lov...er, well look forward to meeting. This Faith is naught but a foul temptress, do not sway 'neath her wiles'_, she desperately tried to tell herself but her minded words held little strength or conviction. For within Faith's arms she felt an intoxication that no mead nor matured spirit could rival. Buffy swayed in Faith's firm yet tender hold, her heart veering strangely to the strains of an oceanic melody .

"B, have you ever spent the night in a hammock?

"Of course not", replied Buffy who fought to keep her ardour from rising.

"Do you fear to lose control? To become impassioned and rid yourself of the girdle of Venus? A beauty such as yourself should not have to suffer the burden of chastity, but fear not for I be well schooled in the art of wenching."

"S-so….'tis true? You hunger for the taste of a l-l-ady?", asked Buffy softly.

"Indeed. I jest with Xander that I only keep him on board in case we ever get caught and I can use him to plead my belly", chuckled the Captain as their bodies pressed closer.

Faith moved her face in closer and ran her lips over Buffy's, a glancing sweep of moistened skin that tingled both to the core. Buffy felt her soul and heart mingle and bleed into sovereign territories, for this was a meeting of skin, an unblemished moment that neither had ever conceived possible.

Buffy caught herself falling into the kiss and suddenly wrenched herself free of the subterfuge, letting her years of disdain and the decree of polite society flourish within her, she pushed back the Captain with an anger that drowned out the unbridling of her heart.

"Y-you k-k-kissed me? How dare you kiss me! You are disgusting; you are the mother of all swine!"

"B, what the he..."

While Faith's mind was still swimming at Buffy's sudden change of demeanour the blonde took the advantage and whipped Faith's oft used pistol from the table and pointed it at the Captain.

Buffy stood there on the deck, her attention sharply fixed on the face of the Captain whose initial shock soon faded into a smirk of defiance, but strangely, fear undertook no such journey to her visage.

"Now take me home. The gallows await you Captain and I will watch and laugh as you swing", Buffy crowed as her firmly imprinted snobbery and values rocketed to the surface.

"Oh really ?"

"A-and your bones will rot in a cage, a gibbet that many a crow and maggot shall call home as they feast 'pon your eyes"

"So I take it you did not like the kiss?", shrugged the Captain which irked Buffy even more.

"I-I-I…..b-but what you do is against reason and against God"

"God hath no place aboard aboard this vessel, for upon The Slayer….. I _**AM**_ God"

"Your words be of heresy's pitch Captain, but I think that you be nothing but scum and a murderer. The back alley offspring of a bogtrotter."

"How dare you!", snapped Faith as her wrath hauled from its anchor.

"Oh I dare. There is a bounty of one thousand gold pieces upon your head Captain", said Buffy smugly, desperate to hide her true fear. But she was confused as to where her fear was rooted, be it from being a prisoner to a pirate or be it from the strange smouldering she felt in her heart?

"Is that all? My neck is worth twice that"

"Then 'tis a sum I would gladly pay to see a slattern like you receive her just reward, and not just you will swing"

"Do not fool yourself B"

"I said do _**NOT**_ call me by such a casual manner", snapped Buffy as her shaking hands held the pistol out towards her hostess of the high seas.

"Why not…B", smirked the Captain stepping closer to the barrel which aimed directly at her heart.

"Come no closer Captain Lehane or I…I…"

"You will what? Shoot me?"

"Bedad! You are a pirate, an orphan of debauchery and a shame to all mankind, reverence must be of strange solace to you", jeered Buffy as she cocked the pistol, copying the actions of Mr Travers she had seen one June morning when Lady Gwendolyn Post had her honour tainted by the callous words of a most vulgar suitor.

"I am proud as hell to live outside the rank and file, the laws and rigmarole that bind folk like you. My life will ne'er be taken by a gallows man, I will die sword in hand 'pon the dread field of battle"

"And you believe that Be'elzebub will be most impressed that your life would be snuffed in such a way? Your lubberly crew too will ne'er be returned to liberty, but be this really the word of you all? Death is as paramount a virtue as grace?", asked Buffy, shocked that Faith feared not the muzzle pointing at her very heart.

"Aye, the Royal Navy will not take us for if you fight like a man you will not be hang'd like a dog. This be our word and sacred it shall remain to us", replied Faith sternly as she doubted not the loyalty of her companions.

"And even of the girl? Dawn is it? When you are caught, know that it is _**you**_ who put that noose round her neck"

"Enough! You do not you think I want better for Dawn, not this life, not this ...death.", snapped Faith as her mask of indifference crack'd and civility was cast off from her words.

"When you are caught, maybe the fine men of His Majesty's Navy will take leniency on her as she is but a child and…"

"Leniency? From the filth who fly the King's banner? Let me tell you of Dawn, when we found her she could not have been much more than eight. She was near dead, bloodied and battered. Two of your _'fine men of His Majesty's Navy'_ had torn her flower from her and to stop her from telling anyone they cut out her tongue", growled Faith as her knuckles flushed with an ivory hue. Her noble calm fracturing, the tenderness that was once held in her dark, glassy eyes fleeing in but a moment.

Buffy's mouth fell open in shock, that such monstrous behaviour could be bestowed upon such an innocent by the very men that her husband-to-be commanded. She knew not that a civilized world could hold such horrors.

"Y-y-you lie", gasped Buffy as she felt her tears sting her eyes.

"'Tis no lie, they did not know she could write though, they believed her to be just another rapscallion of the gutter. In time she started to recover and one morn she wrote it all down, a scribe to actions that no soul, heathen or no, should be witness to… let alone victim. She cried in my arms that day until she fell asleep", said Faith with such fury embalming her words, she held up her palm with a fierce scar running deep across it.

"I took my blade and that day I made a blood oath that I would find them and make them pay", said the Captain as if she were but a carriage to a devilish rage.

"I-is that why you had her look over Captain Snyder and the o-others?"

"Yes"

"And if you find them?", asked Buffy as the pistol weighed heavy in her arms.

"B, if I told you what fate awaits those men you would ne'er sleep a wink again. No clemency would they find with me",

"So is this what drives you? A bloody vengeance against sinners? How many have died on your search?"

"Cruelty begets cruelty in this world, and you think they deserve not to pay for their crimes?"

"I did not say that, but the blood you shed while you steal taints any noble cause you may heed. You put traders and God fearing seamen to the sword merely for your own gain"

"And how does _**your **_family make money?", said Faith as she casually picked up her wine and sipped it's nectar.

"Why, cotton. A-and molasses", said Buffy with many a crease of her forehead, a naïve spirit engaging her words.

"Heh, and you call _**me**_ a monster? Seems to me that your family is naught but fiends themselves"

"How dare you besmirch my family's name like that!", snapped Buffy once more lining the pistol with the ample chest of the Captain, "How can you compare a fine business of…"

"And who picks that cotton, B? Who hauls the barrels of molasses? Slaves. Your property, under your whip and command. There is as much blood on your hands as there is on mine, at least I can admit it", snorted Faith with a vehemence not hidden by tawdry semantics.

"Verily you talk of slaves and the freedom you profess to champion and yet you keep me here as a mere possession? 'Tis that not the same?", replied Buffy her lips marring the beauty of her countenance.

"Believe not everything you hear about me"

"But you said it yourself"

"There are many things I say, but I be a most fickle soul as my shipmates know well, now lower the pistol _**Miss**_ Summers, it suits you not to be angered", said Faith as she turned away from Buffy.

"How dare you turn your back on me, I-I am warning you or I…"

Before the words could fully form in Buffy's mind the trigger was pulled.

The powder sparked.

But no shot flew true.

Shocked that she could so quickly be drawn to callous and deadly actions, Buffy dropped the pistol to the deck and put her hands over her mouth as tears rapidly formed in her eyes.

"How stupid do you really think I am Miss Summers, of course I don't keep it loaded when I'm entertaining.", sneered Faith as she picked up the pistol and placed it back in her waistband.

"Y-you...you..knew I would..."

"Why do you think I let you see me remove my breastplate? I was giving you an opportunity, to show what kind of woman you really were. To see what you be willing to risk in order to get to your beloved"

"My what?"

"Lieutenant Finn?" 

"Oh yes….._**him**_…of course", said Buffy with a crimson sheen to her cheeks.

"And you would shoot me in the back? And you call _**me **_villain?" 

"I didn't…. I swear, it just went off"

"Do not spin such a yarn on board my ship, B!", yelled the Captain as her patience grew thin as silken thread.

"I-I meant it not, 'twas an accident"

"You really expect me to believe that? Mayhaps you would like to try it again with sword? Fair Miss Summers, take up blade to me and I will scar you in such a way that no fiancé could ever bear to lay eyes upon", said Faith as she glared at the scared young lady, a fire rose once more in the dread Captain's eyes as her deadly rasp curled free.

"What manner of p-pirate are you? Y-you say I will come to no harm y-y-yet you threaten me? I believe your threats be as empty as your h-heart, Captain", said Buffy, her words but a juddering wisp of reason.

Faith stepped towards Buffy and swung her arm back ready to strike the blonde woman who flinched under the raven haired woman's poise. But Faith's hand dropped before her rage could fuel her swing and thrust her bejewelled fingers into her guest's face.

"Next time my hands flies on its own, where I come from there are penalties when a woman lies"

"You are of Babylon's creed Captain, each soul you release from earthly shackles only further damnates your own", said Buffy sheepishly.

"I only kill when I have to Miss Summers, but I may change my mind about that", said Faith boring her glare into the wet eyes of Buffy.

The raised voices had stirred the crew who spilled forth upon the deck to see their beloved Captain face to face with the beautiful young hostage, even Willow, most fretful at the yelling, had raced up to the deck.

"Mr Harris, put her in irons and take her to the brig. Mayhaps a night with bilge fattened rats will cool your heels", Faith ordered as she seated herself on the hatch-coamings, filling her lungs with the cool morning air, though it could not quell the inferno which burned beneath her breast. She had hoped Buffy would be a strong Lady, not a pitiless fiend who would shoot an unarmed woman in the back.

"Er, Captain…we have no irons…..nor a brig"

"Oh for God's sake…", sighed Faith and rubbed her creased brow, "…just take her below."

"No don't hurt, Miss Buffy", Willow squawked as she reached forward and grabbed her Mistress' hand. Her eyes showed defiance but her hands did tremble as much as Buffy's at seeing Faith's tempest that had been unsilenced.

"You think some scullery maid can tell me what to do?", snorted Faith as she raised to her feet once more thrusting her finger into the face of the young redhead who, despite her soul which cowered in mercy, stood up before her tormentor.

"P-please…she did nothing", said Buffy.

"Very well, take her with you then", said Faith with a tone she was unsure of.

"Mr Travers always said that mouth of yours would get you in trouble", Willow murmured to her Mistress as they were manhandled down below once more.

"Warren take the helm, west if you please"

He paused a moment at the sudden change of course.

"To Sanguina? To...?", he asked as he knew who made port in that shady cove.

"Do you dare disobey me?", roared Faith as she snatched her sword from the table and let it's silver edge slumber once more in it's scabbard.

"No of course not, heading west Cap'n", he replied with an air of trepidation.

A sudden calm washed over The Slayer as their guests were locked away, the winds did blow favourably and the battle ravaged prow tore through the rising surf as the Captain of the dread vessel gripped the half supped bottle of wine tightly. Her arm rose back to launch the slender necked flagon to her cabin door but instead threw it out to sea with a scream, hoping to carry her frustration with it.

"Anya, why are you sending out two pigeons?", asked Xander as he watched his lover fumble with her cherished birds.

"Angelus will either be on his ship or in Porto Blanco, so I'll send one north and one south. To save time", she shrugged back as the winged messengers took flight.

Kennedy sidled up to the fuming Captain and tried to broach conversation as they stared out across their watery kingdom.

"The crew of The Resolution will hit the waters off Estobelle in a few hours. A fishing vessel will no doubt follow the smoke and pick them up by mid morn"

"I know that Ken, what do you tell me such things?"

"I just mean, maybe you would have been wise to tell Buffy of your true intentions, that you were laying a trail so the crew would be safe and not simply left as flotsam."

"What is your point?", huffed Faith as her anger trickled down to a childish level of petulance, unseemly for one so high in command.

"If you let her believe all these stories about you then there is no way in hell's breadth she will ever grant you a midnight audience with her"

"Meaning?"

"She is a lady of breeding; you are but a cut throat and the bastard castoff of a drunken harlot. Do you really think that….?"

"Kennedy…..if you knew what she…ah, to blazes with it", snapped Faith as she clenched cork 'tween her teeth and unplugged the blessed taste of rum from its bottle. She swigged her grog as her heart and head began their duel that would linger 'til sleep took her prisoner.

"Faith, what is wrong with you? Never have I seen a woman both entice and enrage you so, not since Cordel…"

"Do _**NOT**_ mention that name to me",

"Apologies Captain. But this Buffy….you are not really going to sell her to Angelus….are you?", said Kennedy though those words left a bitter aftertaste as she knew first hand of his evils of the flesh.

"Why not? I hoped that she would be….nevermind", said Faith as the liquid slid down her throat, purging her of reason and rationale.

"But….you know what he'll do to her…..Faith…..Faith?",

But no answer was to flow from the lips of the Captain whose head began to dizzy with the swell of rum, she rose to unsteady feet and wandered below decks leaving her First Mate's worry to simmer.

Kennedy looked across the barren decks and shared a saddened smile with Xander as they both feared for the Captain, they had seen her in such a state only on the rarest of times but when the poisoned dart of Cupid did fly, it pierced Faith's heart like no blade could ever hope to. They knew of her loneliness but kept such notions to themselves.

As Faith slammed shut the door of the fodder hold she slumped down 'pon a sack of plundered grain, her mind a swirling mix of confusion and need.

"This Buffy girl, what with her?", asked Satsu as she flicked the weevils from her stale biscuit.

"Do not start with me", replied Faith as she removed her pistol and belt, untying her britches letting them slip to the well grooved floor.

"Angelus will pay good for girl like her, so why you treat her so…."

"Shut up Satsu", said the Captain with a shake of the head as she passed the bottle to the bare chested woman who suckled from its glassy teat with vigour.

"You're not….oh Faith, you know that Princess like her will NEVER give girl like you….."

"I said shut up", snapped Faith as her lips felt the parching thunder of lust, "I suggest you put that serpent's tongue of yours to a better use"

"I just say….oh, you shaved. Nice", said the bedraggled woman of loosened alleyway as she slipped to her knees and pressed her rum sodden tongue to the slick fundament before her.

As the Captain rolled her eyes back with each lap of Satsus's much used and talented mouth, she couldn't wrench free of a feeling. As her breath barbed within her ample chest, her hands looping through the raven hair of the Asian harridan, her slick channel wept its feminine broth, her lips parted and within the joy scouring her veins Faith made but one lust addled utterance.

"Buffy"

. * . * . * . * . * . * . * . * . * . *

_**Meanwhile, in the Royal Navy stronghold of Port Swaffham**_

"Fear not Ma'am, though she is a few days overdue I am sure no harm has come to her. After all, I myself handpicked Mr Snyder to steer her vessel, no braver man on these waters than he I assure you", said the young man as he admired his shining brass buttons in the gilt edged mirror of the Governor's mansion.

"Thank you Lieutenant Finn but your words offer me little comfort. With my husband still fresh in his grave Buffy is all I have in this world and I would gladly give all I have and more to have her safely returned to me. I'm worried sick for her welfare, I have not even set eyes upon her for nigh on five years now and I am sure she has blossomed into a beautiful lady, but alone…...out there? And I can do nothing but wait on this hateful pestilent island. Please Mr Finn, bring her back to me", Joyce begged the young man.

"The sea is a vast empire Mrs Summers, it would take all the ships at the Governor's disposal to scour but one fiftieth of it"

"Sir, I am begging you. Bring her back to me….and I will gladly give you my blessing on your wedding day. Until a new Governor is appointed the powers of his office reside in me, so Mr Finn I hereby bestow on you the rank of Captain. All the ships in our harbor are at your disposal"

"Thank you Ma'am, I promise to uphold all the honours that such an office demands. Girl, my hat", Riley said as he clicked his fingers at the young serving girl.

"Yes Sir", replied Kendra as she handed him his Officer's hat which he bore upon his crown as if he were a monarch of a forgotten realm.

"Captain Finn, return my Buffy to me…..'tis all I ask", said the proud widow whose blackened gown was at odds with the light décor of the Governor's home.

"Of course Ma'am. It will be my pleasure to bring her back", he grinned widely as Mr Finn picked up his sword and swaggered from the sun drenched halls.

As Joyce watched the arrogant young Naval officer climb into his sedan chair she sighed heavily and her heart ached as if chains forged in the furnaces of purgatory itself were indeed shackled to her soul. Joyce's thoughts weighed heavy 'pon her as she strode through to the morning room.

'_As much as I dislike that man, what choice do I have? For he is indeed a gentleman of fine standing, a man of a certain and defined eminence , and any young lady would be blessed to be on his arm. But why my little girl? Her father, God rest his soul, wanted Buffy to marry out of love not necessity or clandestine arrangement. It still confounds me why my dear departed Henry would change his mind and thus allow Mr Finn to take Buffy's hand. But now I have given him my word of blessing….what can I do?_

Joyce sobbed into her embroidered handkerchief, tears which burnt with a sulphurous demand.

"Can I get you anything Ma'am?", came the slight voice of her maid who dropped a slight curtsy before her Mistress.

"I…just some tea, thank you Kendra"

"Yes Ma'am", the young girl said obediently, under fear of punishment, and slinked off to the kitchen.

_Oh my sweet Buffy, I pray for your safety._

_Please come back to me._

_Please._


	4. Chapter 4

(Big thanks go out to Lilly, Fire Tiger Lily, A Reader, Miss Spelled, oh there's too many to mention but you know who you are and I love you all)

**CHAPTER FOUR**

"That's _**my**_ brush!", squealed Buffy as she made chase. The thief did tuck and turn evading her feeble grasp as she pursued him up onto the deck, his cries of flight became as a mocking cackle to her ears.

Her ivory handled hairbrush, fashioned from the horn of the plentiful rhinoceros, was in the mischievous hands of Wesley. As the small monkey scampered around, bounding from coiled rope to tapped barrel, Buffy felt herself blushing whilst the crew of The Slayer laughed heartily at the young woman's attempts to capture said playful primate.

Seeing the one eared banana connoisseur outwit the lady of exquisite breeding was indeed fine sport to the crew raising them from their dull and spiritless resignations, Buffy's simple gown flowed out behind her like sail trapping a pleasant breeze as her bare feet carried her in her pursuit before she slipped and fell to the deck in an undignified heap.

"Good to see you decided to join us, B", said Faith as Wesley scampered up her arm and on to her shoulder.

Buffy, her firm bosom heaving like mizzen shroud in a malicious tempest, looked up to see the Captain smirking down at her, the drying wisps of smoke slipping from her raw mouth in the midday sun as she leant against the capstan.

Wesley peered down at Buffy, then at the brush, and so copied her actions he had seen in her cabin and run the brush through his mangy fur which made the blonde lady's mouth fall open in disgust at such mimicry. The crew bellowed their mirth at the ever comical monkey whilst Faith simply stared amusedly at the wheezing Buffy who hauled herself to her feet and brushed down her gown before hooking her stray hair behind her ears.

"T-that's my brush", she said sheepishly as her face became as scarlet as the sails which billowed high above her in the Eastern wind of a full and gracious nature.

"Do you want it back?", asked Faith as she looked at Wesley chewing on the bristles made from the finest of horse hair plucked from the effete steeds of Bavaria.

"Ewww, I certainly do not. And _**you**_ Captain, owe me a new brush", huffed Buffy as her embarrassment slid to one side whilst her haughty nature took her by the reins.

"I think not"

"I think so!", snipped Buffy as she stomped her bare heel on the timber deck which made Faith simply raise an eyebrow to a lofty peak.

"You really think highly of yourself, do you not B?"

"I told you not to call me by such a manner, _**F**_", Buffy snorted back with derision.

"You listen here m'lady, if you think you can...", replied Faith, her ire rising as she stood toe to toe with her guest but before any further words of malaise could form on her barren lips she was cut off by the panicked whine of Willow who rushed up on deck.

"Miss Buffy, Miss Buffy! You should not be out here so indecently attired", squealed the redheaded maid, within whom propriety was the most sacred of virtues. She stood in front of Faith, arms wide; shielding Buffy behind her to salvage whatever shards of her Mistress' modesty was still yet to be wrested from her.

For Buffy was festooned not in a gown of finery, no bustles or corsets had yet to grace her figure, she was draped merely in her nightgown with its high waist giving prominence to Buffy's breasts between which her silver crucifix did hang.

"Indecent? How so?", smiled Faith as she tried to peek round the honourable maid and see Buffy whose dress tightened to her frame as her breath did fight for respite.

"Y-you can see her ankles, you She-Devil! No lady s-should show such immodesty in public!", shrieked a most flustered Willow as she blushed a hue to match her hair. For if anyone in the tea rooms of Woolwich were to hear of such a state of undress then Miss Buffy would be cast from decent society and shunned to spend her days as a spinster in the hills of Hertfordshire far removed from the favour of London.

"Well it's for the best, for how can she work if she wears a fancy gown?", shrugged Faith as she smiled seeing her guest hiding her mounded haven.

"Work?", squealed Willow.

"Work?", squealed Buffy.

"Yes...work. There are no free voyages in this world ladies, we are not in the habit of homing and feeding people who do not graft for their passage"

"We are hardly taking passage of our own free will here, Captain.", said Buffy as, though her wings be clipped, her spirit was free to soar and there was something about Faith which made her pomposity peak and valley like the waves upon which she found herself.

"I told you, you can call me Faith"

"It matters not _**Captain**_, and by the way, the fodder you have served us in our cabin is hardly worth labouring for"

"What? Bread and water is a feast for some you know, try asking the men and women who till the fields of your family what they are given to eat. And I did get Andrew to cut the mould from the bread, You know I hoped that a day and a night below decks with the fodder of your workforce may make you a little less priggish"

"You are a pig, Captain. Little more than ill begotten swine", snapped Buffy who cared not that the whim of the pirate to whom she was guest could verily remove her chance of ever reaching the ripe old age of five and twenty.

"Now now B, such bitterness hardly befits a lady like you. But actions do speak louder than words, so come along and get to work as these decks won't scrub themselves…..or do you wish to swim to your fiancé?", smirked the Captain as she passed her pipe to Lorne who gladly puffed on its long clay stem as he worked away.

"But work? Miss Buffy is a lady and should never have to work! I-I-I shall work for Miss Buffy, 'tis my place", protested the young maid who saw Faith as little more than a brute overseer with the power to make them dwell in squalor for many a moon until release came to pass.

"Nay, Willow"

"Aye Miss Buffy, please let me take your place"

"What say ye Princess, should I fetch the yokes for the pails or do you fear to scuff a hem or blemish a strand of hair?", cooed Faith condescendingly.

Buffy, feeling slighted by the Captain's mockery, pulled herself to her full height and raised her nose as if a foul odour had sharpened her sense to a disagreeable peak.

"Come along Willow, we will _**both**_ do it.", sneered Buffy as she took her humble hand maid by the arm and strutted away from the Captain.

Both Faith and Willow wore looks of shock as the haughty lady strutted across the ship waving the crew out of her way with limpen wrist as if she was heir to the Regency. Acting as if the hardy souls who sailed The Slayer were little more than destitute, disease ridden common folk and far beneath her stock.

They stood 'neath the flapping mainsail and, after disguising her disgust, Buffy dropped to her knees and plunged her hands into the wooden buckets and she and Willow started to scrub the deck. Though inside Buffy knew that their labours would flag in no time under this penitent sun but she was of a mule's stubbornness, though ill-nourished and defiled but the very idea of toil, Buffy felt such a desire to prove the Captain wrong. That she was more than a Lady whose life revolved around banquets and fine embroidery, that she could be as much a woman as the Captain.

Kennedy and Faith looked at each dumbfounded at the level of resolve and friendship between this Lady of society and her lowly hand maiden. The Captain so wanted to revel in the humbling of the slight damsel but seeing her take to grafting with such aplomb, her words of derision, her smirk of victory, were all but felled by the swell of dampened breasts heaving out before her like a lewd women of wanton nature.

A smile of mysterious origin did flicker across the visage of Buffy as her hands scraped back and forth along the timbers peppered with spilled powder and wayward plume, her top did loosen with each slow lunge as the splashes of water were thirstily taken by her dress making it cling with a possessive grasp.

"Is _**this**_ to your satisfaction, Captain?", asked Buffy with a taunting tone for though she was shame faced to be seen in such intimate apparel, she was well aware of the haunting strain that played within Faith's eyes.

With each thrust of her arms along the deck Buffy feared that such a showing of her skin would soon leave her accustomed to harlotry but after being kept below in the cabin she was in a mind to torment the Captain. If that one kiss during dinner was to show Faith's true intent then Buffy decided to play upon such weakness.

But as the Captain stared down at her captives she could forge no words of ridicule or joy.

As Buffy, though unused to manual labour, scrubbed away awkwardly she smirked up at Faith delighted that she had gained the upper hand in this battle of wills. Though treated as a mere colonial by most of London society it had forged her stubborn streak into an indomitable resolve.

Faith's face hardened and her hand instinctively reached for her sword but it still lay in her cabin, though even if it were within grasp she knew not what to do with her blade. Losing face in front of her crew was sin beyond compare in her eyes and though her mind twisted through emotion's foul chasms, seeing the willing disposition of Buffy had salved her disdain for her a notch. But this Buffy, this mere slip of a girl, had befuddled her sense and so questioned her own heart's desire.

"I…..er….", Faith said as her command fell into question, both of her helm and her heart, and so guided her attention elsewhere "Anya, fetch one of your birds. Send a message to Lieutenant Finn that we have his bride-to-be and he may have her back if he pays a handsome price"

"Aye Cap'n"

"Faith, do you really intend on dealing with Finn and the damnable Navy?", asked Kennedy as they crossed the poop deck so as to regroup their masques of menacing glee.

"Hell no, I wouldn't trade spit with a man like that. I just mean to play him off against Angelus"

"But Captain, will not Angelus lower his price if his bounty is scuffed and battered?", asked Anya for her allure of gold and jewel was immeasurable, she lusted for bounty and cared not who paid.

"Some things matter more", replied the Captain solemnly as she felt the full treachery of sobriety flush her soul. "Anya, just send the damned message"

"Faith, you're being pretty harsh on Buffy are you not? What do you hope to achieve by breaking a spirit such as hers?", asked Kennedy as she leant next to the Captain as they watched the pigeon loop round the ship before flying off into the vast blue empire.

Even though her mistrust was of a biblical notoriety Faith still felt the stirring within her loins whenever her eyes struck the frame of Buffy. But she knew well the price of being enamoured of a lady, a price she refused to pay again, no matter what her loss may be.

"She may act like a Lady, or at least try to, but she tried to shoot me in the back. Hell's teeth, what kind of drizzle-pate would do that?", the Captain snapped at her First Mate as she stared back at her captives efforts.

"You?"

"Kennedy, would you care for me to pierce your tongue with nail and hammer it to the yardarm?", came the reply cocooned in an ermine soft sneer.

"Ilo silento Faith, I merely jest", the Latina said back, "But do ye see her as a fox? You know, how they enjoy being hunted"

"You think that I be pixie-led, quean struck on her? You be one to talk"

"Que?"

"You know my meaning Ken, I have seen how you stare at the serving girl"

"W-what do you m-mean?", coughed the First Mate, her bluff called.

The two bickered in hushed voices and idle threats, in snide tones and faux promise, but this was the kinship they had. Buffy looked up to see the pair of privateers grimace at words and notions that no other would have the gall to speak to the Captain. But the young lady, whose hands reddened and ached in no time, felt proud that she had beaten Faith at her own game, though she still cursed her crack'd nails and swore under her breath in Latin.

"You know 'tis a dangerous game you play, antagonizing the Captain like that, her dander is most easily got up", Xander said as he sat down by Buffy and Willow winding a spool of fraying rope around his bulky forearm out of earshot of Faith and Kennedy.

"I care not", retorted Buffy as she scraped away on the grimy deck.

"I'll tell you a secret, most of Faith is all bark and little bite, but when she does bite she'll tear the flesh from your very bones. I mean literally too. Do you know what a pirate's most valuable arm is?"

"Her sword? Oh, I know…it's her pistol I wager", blurted out Willow as she dipped once more into the wooden bucket whose seams were bulging.

"Nay,'tis her reputation. With such a terrifying tale before her, most quake with terror and salute a flag of white rather than face Captain Lehane, with such tales brazed to the minds of all who sail the seas we seldom have to raise pistol to foe. Most merely surrender so death is not as common a pastime as you may believe", said Xander as he scratched at his eye 'neath his tattered patch.

"And what of the crew of The Resolution? Surely they are to perish, though not by her hand, she is still the cause of their unjust demise", said Buffy assured of the Captain's villainy.

"The crew we set adrift the other day? We were on the edge of the Myneghon straits; it would not have been more than a few hours past sunrise before they were picked up. These are the lanes that the rum runners use to steer clear of the Navy, or there are many islands around here they would easily find shore upon, the crew would be safe by now"

"You mean she did not leave them to die?", asked Buffy not knowing how to feel about Faith now, though in the midst of a degradation that she never dreamed worthy of the most covetous of sinners, she was now presented with a side of the dread Captain which reeked not of cruelty but of mercy. Confusion reigned within her mind.

"Nay, she may be a pirate of fearsome repute but she be not evil. Angelus however, she means to trade you to him.", Xander said with sorrow plighting his breath.

"Why?"

"Well she was in two minds when first ye met as seldom has such a pretty face graced our vessel. But you humiliated her in front of the whole crew when you dined, she needs to make an example of you to save face. No matter how much she likes you…"

"What do…..wait, she _**likes**_ me...I believed her just to be after…..", said Buffy with surprise as she wanted not to name her intimacies.

"'Tis true that she does love a dalliance with a woman's cheeky mews but nay, she does not entertain at all….._**ever**_….well not since…..", he trailed off not wanting to recall such a narrow escape, "For her to dress so well and be so tender when dining, well you, Miss Summers, must be of a special charm for her to be smitten so"

"Smitten? She be smitten….with _**me**_?", gasped Buffy.

"I have said too much, but now you have offended her she will take no shame from passing you to Angelus for coin"

"I have heard much of him, but I have heard the same of Captain Lehane. If she is not was wicked as I have been lead to believe then is the same not true of he?"

"Pah, within his clutches maidens are treated most cruelly, the beauteous work of our Lord defiled so foully, I would hate for one such as you to feel the caress of Angelus for he is a bastard of the sea, a rake from the most notorious of noble families turned scurrilous cur. You are a fine catch and that is no lie, you will fetch a handsome price" he said mournfully as his eye, where haunted image would forever dwell, did water.

"S-s-she really would sell Miss Buffy i-i-into slavery ?", stammered Willow in such terror that her hands did shake as twin streaks of tears did stream.

"Willow, do not fear for ne'er will she get the chance. Tell me Sir, does your Captain sell many of her captives into a life of servitude and hardship?"

"Actually nay, but many a ransom has she demanded in the past from the well-to-do families of the New World."

"And yet slavery abhors her? I think she is as much a trader of the flesh as any slave merchant", Buffy said as she guided their gazes over to the tattooed Bo'sun who whistled merrily as he stropped his razor with the sharp swish of blade 'pon leather,

"You speak of Mr Gunn? His real name is Nwangi Oboki but we just call him Gunn as he is so deadly accurate with his shot, like the devil himself blesses his powder", said Xander with pride at his crewmate, "We chased down a trading ship and to out-run us they did lessen their load and threw all their cargo overboard ... their cargo was slaves. We stopped our chase and saved as many as we could but only Mr Gunn survived, t'other twenty perished quickly in the roaring surf. So Faith made us wrap each body in fine damask to give them a dignified burial at sea. Anya was most royally peeved as those sheets would have fetched a high price at market but the Captain was adamant that they be treated with the respect they deserve."

"B-but they were merely slaves", said Buffy with a slight frown.

"They are people Miss Summers, all of God's beautiful creations and deserved no less. Oz, though he is a medical man he is also rich with the blessings of The Word, so he lead us all in a prayer for each one before we let them into God's loving care"

"I thought your Captain believed not in the Lord"

"Oh she has faith, but it has been tested so often, so brutally. Ever since we happened upon Dawn that snowy winter's eve Faith renounced her...er, faith."

The tragic fortitude of judgment ensnared the young ladies as they looked up at Faith who tore free of her light hearted squabble with Kennedy and stared out to the port side with a smile which bore both anguish and excitement.

"Mr Harris, a sounding if you please!", yelled the Captain as she leapt from her perch as if benighted by heaven's blessing.

"Why Cap'n? There be naught but broad…", Xander started as he turned to face the waves.

"Do it now Xander, the tides have shifted…. and we are in the Sands Of Sanshu!"

"Right away Cap'n", he said with a burst as he launched his weighted rope from the side splashing into the brimming waves as he fought to quell his sudden anxiety.

"What goes on?", said Buffy to the young man as she and Willow stopped in their labour.

"Here there be great swathes of sand, it does drift and move as if a silent monster hidden by the sea, only Faith would dare enter these waters for they do move with each tide. No map could chart them as they do shift so sudden. Cap'n!", yelled Xander as he held up his tallow smeared line which felt the crust of sand.

"Two degrees starb'd.", she commanded to the helm which span in urgency.

"Cap'n we must turn back afore we…", said Anya fearfully as The Slayer did lurch and scrape against the shifting seabed which seemed to lust after adding another hull to its tally.

"Never! Hold fast Warren, steady….steady. Now hard-a-port", she yelled with glee as she grasped the rigging tight, her blood thunder'd in her heart and her dimples shone bright for here she was the divine and the whim of nature could not stop her.

"Avast ye cullies, hold on!", she yelled as her hands coiled round the fraying ropes as the ship turned violently, the stern swinging round 'gainst the clip of the waves.

The Slayer rolled to one side as the crew gripped tight to rope and cannon alike as a great wave swept over the deck, as it crashed down Buffy and Willow lost their grips and rolled down the wetted deck. Their gowns soaked through as they flailed about, screaming in fear, but were caught by the strong hands of Mr Gunn before they were swept overboard to face a watery grave.

The swell raised beneath The Slayer which rose 'til the bowsprit scratched at the bright blue yonder as her stern fell away sharply before, with a sudden jerk, she rolled back to larboard.

"Nay, we…..we are through, be everyone alright?", asked the Captain turning to the crew as the ship heaved to a calming drift.

"Aye", came the chorus from the crew as they steadied themselves once more.

"Good….. shame it be so easy", Faith said with a sigh as the ship righted, but now her spirit was awakened, she could parry with the sea in a baiting manner for an eternity and feel no strain. Her heart was now stirred and her hunger for conflict engaged, she span on her heels and shrugged her well stocked bandolier from her which had neatly cleaved her breasts in twain under the canvas of her shirt.

"Dawn, I feel we have neglected your swordplay", she said with a wink as her sister, once untangled from the rigging, smiled back with joy and scurried to the cabin for the weapons made especially for her.

"Bugger me, that were close an' no mistake", said Spike with a chuckle as he pushed away Andrew who had clung tight to his side once the ship did lilt and seemed to make little effort to relinquish his clutch.

"Andrew, what have I told ye?"

"Sorry Spike, I-I-I…..I shall go and….erm….I shall return to the galley", replied the flamboyant pricklouse with a furtive blush and sorried heart as he scampered back below decks.

"I-I thank thee Sir", said Willow as she slipped from the strong hands of Mr Gunn who simply nodded back as he too released Buffy from his grasp.

"Miss Buffy, be you alright?", fussed Willow as she brushed away the debris caught in her Mistress' golden locks and staining her dress.

"I-I be f-f-fine Willow", Buffy replied as she shivered, the wetting they had both received was chilled by the afternoon's breeze which blew with a waft of a growing hostility. They stood next to each other with dripping faces as their bodies shook not knowing what to do, thankful that St Peter would have to wait for another day to welcome them.

"Here", said Mr Gunn with kindly voice as he handed a blanket to the redhead who too felt the lash of the wind against her soaked gown.

"Thankyou Sir, you are most kind", replied Willow as she took the thick blanket and wrapped it around Buffy's narrow shoulders which dripped with salted water.

"Nay Will, there is room enough for two. Come hither", said Buffy as she pulled her maid to her side and they huddled together under the woollen blanket

"M-Mr Gunn…I thank y-you…._Sir_", said Buffy with a flushed face, though she had seen him as but a negro fresh from the plantations, he had thusly proved himself to be a man of a true and compassioned nature.

Willow and Buffy shuffled closer to the brazier by the mizzen mast which burned always and opened its hatchings to garner some warmth. As they felt the glow of embers bestow their gift they looked across the deck to see the crew, ignoring their own wetting, had gathered and a growing call did surge through them.

Faith circled round her opponent, the hilt of her sword gripped tightly in her hand watching her foes every move. She blocked each fierce shot with ease, the swords clunked together as she toyed with Dawn whose technique was crude and thoughtless. Faith had been hungering for a fight and as she swung her sword gently her merry band of buccaneers shouted and encouraged with rasping voice. Her black corselet, loose enough to breathe but tight enough to show off her ample bosom in the way god intended, drew in her waist and accentuated her fine hips as she danced around Dawn.

Faith span on her heel and let her foe stumble past as she swung her skewering sword until it made a hearty thwack on her foes rear who squeaked as she felt the muted ache of her skin.

"Dawnie, you're dropping your left each time", the Captain said as the young girl rubbed the sore mark on her hind quarters as the tight circle of merry faces confronted her.

They stood before each other sword in hand, though these swords were not of steel but fashioned of driftwood courtesy of their expert craftsmen Lorne who was pleased to not be making coffins or repairing Faith's cabin door again after it had often been kicked off its hinges by a rage and rum fuelled Captain.

The wood splintered and clunked together as they swung and moved, Dawn lunged in and Faith guided her aged blade to the deck making the youngling bend over as she would not release her grip of the hilt. Faith stood close behind the young girl with her bounteous breasts pushed into Dawns back and whispered to her.

"Nice try Dawnie, but you do...umph!", Faith cried out as Dawn flung her head back and slammed it into Faith's face making her fall to the deck with an unceremonious thud.

The crew fell silent as no-one had ever bested their beloved Captain before, Faiths hand reached up and felt the thick blood trickle from her nose. Dawn looked on in shock and fear, she knew of Faith's pride and how easily it could be wounded, she loved her sister so and had sworn never to cause her unjust grief.

Faith's eyes did lock on to Dawn's as she hauled herself back to her feet, she stepped closer to the young girl with fire in her eyes as Dawn dropped her sword and her lips trembled as her face became pallid and drawn fearing retribution.

Faith stepped closer, her knuckles cracking and her brow crease as she stepped with danger toward Dawn.

A deafening hush roared all around them as the Captain's eyes narrowed.

Ready to strike.

With vengeance.

Faith lunged forward in an instant grabbing Dawn under her arms and raised her high in the air swinging her round with a deep throated laugh before kissing her lovingly on the cheek, which the crew too joined in once they saw their Captain most amused by her fall.

"Amy, a tot of rum for all, courtesy of Dawnie. The only one of you scowbunkin' lubbers ever to knock me on my ass!"

A great cheer did ring out through the crew as Faith hugged her sister tight and tickled her as Dawn's smile erupted 'pon her small face.

"Well done, Firecracker", Faith whispered into the youngsters ear as she recalled the joy she felt when her father first gifted her with such a name for besting him with cutlass.

Faith passed Dawn, who giggled with the shameless delight of an innocent, to the crew who hauled her into the air and hugged her in congratulation for they could see she would be a most fearsome buccaneer and a source of pride for The Slayer come the day she be needed most. Though none said it, it were a day they hoped would not come soon.

Faith smiled as she watched the grog pour freely, such joviality was a rare occasion and they knew to treasure each moment of joy like it might be their last.

She looked across the deck and saw Buffy smiling sweetly from 'neath her blanket, but 'twas not a smirk of just comeuppance or dry smugness, but it had a pleasurable warmth carried with it. Buffy was touched at how sweet and tender the Captain had been with the ship's cabin girl and as Faith approached with a bloody smile she tried not to speak in tones of a sarcastic pitch.

Buffy refused to let her sweet joy fill her as she was still, in essence, mere prisoner to a cruel wench of the seas. But, for a fleeting moment as their eyes did clash, they heralded no station and paid heed to no sense for within that moment they felt their spirits meet and a great calm befell them both. But all too sudden the moment passed and their roles did resume, that of embittered rogue of the waves and her captive Lady.

"Good work, Lorne", said the Captain as she crossed her damn'd man-o-war.

"Danke, mein Kapitan", he smiled back tapping his pipe bowl to his boot.

Faith patted Lorne on the back as he had not moved from his position, though he was as eager as any to watch the fight he knew of the treachery which hid within Buffy's mind and so watched her and her equally sodden maid as he weaved. His thick fingers of a surprisingly nimble touch worked the supple reeds in and out as he fashioned a new basket for Andrew's fruit so they would be out of reach of Wesley's thieving hands for they all knew that Dawn had trained him to fetch the odd apple or lime for her.

"B, are you cold?", asked Faith with spirits raised and a dimpled face.

"N-no….I…..y-you bleed", she said back staring at the crimson smears which did paint Faith's face. Her nose had been broke oft before so this was little more than a glancing blow.

"Aye, Dawn is a firebrand and no mistake. But 'tis nothing that cannot be fixed with a little best brown paper and paraffin", she replied as she leant on one of the twenty four pounders which lay unbearably silent.

"What?"

"Cures all ailments, with a little caulking pitch too. 'Tis what I used the other day after that powdered wig prattlespit took my blood,", Faith said as she fiddled with the spadroon sword sitting awkwardly in her well worn scabbard.

"I see", replied Buffy without knowing what further to say. She had questions, a thousand of them she wanted to spill, but knowing the fickle mind of the Captain she held her tongue.

"B, there is one thing I must know. Were you really going to shoot me in the back? You had no qualms about wanting to kill me?"

"'Twas an accident, I swear it", said Buffy.

"So you say", snorted Faith as she wiped her bloodied nose on her leather gauntlet which made Buffy scowl in disgust. "And why should I e'er believe you?"

"Captain", Buffy said in a most serious tone as she shrugged off the warm blanket and stepped towards Faith, "I swear… on my father's grave….. that it was an accident"

Quiet befell the pair as their eyes clashed in dulcet shades.

"I believe you…._Miss Summers_", replied Faith, for once obeying the rules of etiquette, with an equally solemn tone as she knew what such a vow held. For she herself had sworn such an oath in the past and the watery grave of Captain Wilkins was the most sacred of things on which a promise could be sworn.

"Good, t-that's good", Buffy said as she blushed a little, sensing a rapport clawing into their words.

"I think that's enough for now Miss Summers, you did a fine job, maybe I should get you to scrub my deck more often. But you may go below now and get out of those wet clothes", the Captain said with a warm smile. She knew not why this woman was able to sever her stern shell so easily and shook her head as Buffy wiped her brow.

"And Willow?"

"She may go too"

"Thankyou", Buffy said softly as she took her maid's hand.

"Miss Summers, when you have dried off you need not stay below decks. You may take refreshment with me i-if you care, Andrew has always desired to make tea, s-so if you…", Faith asked with a nervous scourge that she had only felt once before, but for a much different reason.

"I…oh…..I am most fatigued, I think I will lay to rest for a while"

"Fair enough, rest well…. B"

"Thank you…..Faith"

'_Surely all I have been told cannot be a lie? That she is a vicious and scurrilous monster whose life is worth nothing, but how could a rogue such as she be so tender with Dawn and so beloved by her crew? And she has manners too? Just who are you Faith and what is it you guard so close to your heart?_", Buffy thought as she was led away so Willow could find suitable attire for her.

"Spike, larbowlines 'til evening gun", Faith ordered as she stole away to her cabin, a gust of discontent still blew within her but she could not stop her mind thinking of the girl who had traded embarrassments with her. Her cabin door slammed shut and she took a deep breath, for here, out of sight of crew and captive alike, she knew not what to do.

"Aye Cap'n", replied the Englishman as he set to his work little realising that from a shadowy corner he was being spied upon by a young man who had crept back from the galley. He watched as the taut sinewy arms of Spike hauled away at the hairy ropes, but Andrew could not fight the sob from within.

For a love unreturned be a pitiless and vindictive curse that few can bear without tears.

….

Willow looked out across the sea from the bulwark, the sunset enflaming the glare of the waves as she stood still and felt the cool breeze dance upon her pasty skin. 'Twas now early evening and she had left her Mistress slumbering in their cabin and took the opportunity to take in the air. There was a clear tint to the vast waters, the hazy wash of the dying sun, as if daubed by ochre, glimmering upon the glassy surface gave a sense of unerring tranquillity. Willow had loved to spend her little free time in London by the Serpentine at such an hour as she felt so at peace with the world, as if she alone was witness to such serenity and 'twas her only keepsake in this world save for the locket around her neck which held the etching of her dear departed mother.

She always wondered why she should be allowed to stay in service to the Summers family, after all she was yet to reach her teens at the time of her mother's passing. But Mr Summers had insisted on her staying, an act of kindness beyond that of the average household for she felt sure she was destined for the workhouse. As the years passed she could think of no other life than of being in service to Miss Buffy and such kindness on their part bred such loyalty in the young maiden, she thanked the Lord everyday for her good fortune.

"Buenas noches m'lady", came the low voice from behind her making her jump.

"I...oh...good evening", she replied shyly as Kennedy strolled up to her with a casual gait but her hand belayed her nonchalance as she fiddled with her neckerchief uneasily.

"I-I...er..would you care for a sip of rum?", asked the First Mate tentatively holding the bottle she had stolen away with, mostly supped but still with enough heady brew to quell any nerves.

"I...oh nay, I am in service to Miss Buffy and it would not be becoming for one such as I to take drink while on duty, for I serve her whim no matter what it may be or even if..."

"Woah there, you babble like an unfettered brook. I offer no such rebellion, merely a snifter of grog. But you should know that whilst on board The Slayer you are not bound by service"

"But honour dictates that I be by her side", protested Willow for she be as devoted as she was timid.

"If you insist. A little snuff?", Kennedy said as she opened her silver case filled with the blackened powder.

"N-no thankyou", said the maid unused to conversing with anyone outside of the pantry.

"Fair enough, so where be your Mistress"

"She be at r-rest, such work is not fitting for a Lady such as she"

"Aye, she did work for a whole hour", replied the First Mate with an intoned sarcasm.

"D-do you mock her?"

"My apologies, I meant naught by it m'lady", said Kennedy with a strange reluctance as she took a pinch to her nose before also staring out across the briny, "The eve is a beauty, is she not?"

"Indeed"

"But I-I have seen greater beauty", said the pirate bedecked in fine breeches and flowing top coat whose buttons glistened with silvery shine.

"You have? Pray tell what jewel had more allure than the twinkling of heaven's gift?"

"Your eyes", said Kennedy softly as she set the bottle down as the maid flushed redder than any hue of nature's wondrous palate and gulped heartily.

"My...what...I...what do...oh mercy", panicked the shy maid as she saw the fervent passion within the Latina girl's eyes.

Willow snatched the bottle and took a full and head swimming swig before wheezing at its tongue stripping gift. Her head did swirl as her gullet felt the deep down warmth spread in an instant but 'twas nothing compared the inappropriate words of a romantic nature her ears rang with.

"Tis a strong brew, is it not?", chuckled the First Mate, most used to such a drink flooding her gills.

"I think I may have gone blind", Willow wheezed as Kennedy helped her to sit on the deck before she fell headfirst into the briny.

"I take it you have ne'er supped on such grog"

"I…once Miss Buffy slipped me a tipple of wine before evensong", replied the shrinking violet.

"Ha-ha, just relax m'lady, you are in safe hands"

"Your hands are safe? I thought they be of mischiefs whim, a coiling set ready to slip through my slip", she replied with words of such a crass meaning, no doubt picked up from Buffy, and she quickly peeked around to make sure no-one had heard her rudeness.

"Nay good lady, I have no such intent"

"Oh", Willow replied with a disappointment that surprised even her.

"I-I mean you are more pretty than any I have ever laid eyes on….. b-but one such as you deserves more than to be seduced with but one aim"

"B-but I am a maid and nothing more, i-it is my duty to serve Miss Buffy", replied Willow in shock as her stuttering rode free.

"Willow, you are a beauty. A fine lady that deserves more than to be chattel to Buffy, what will happen to you when she marries and needs you no more?", asked Kennedy as she too sipped from the bottle.

"S-she said she will still keep me on, a-a-and then when she has children I will be nanny to them", said Willow as she knew not the line of the First Mate's notion.

"And that is what you want from life? To be her pet for always? Do you not want to find love for yourself? To be your own person?"

"I…I…but Miss Buffy needs me"

"You need more than to be at her beck and call 'til the grave, Willow. Though I do admire how close you are with her, but do not tell me you think her airs and graces make her better than you or I?".", said Kennedy as she moved a little closer to the woman who was no older than herself.

"She is. For Miss Buffy is a Lady. I….I….I am but a maid", the ever retiring Willow finished in a soft whisper.

"And I am but a pirate, but everyone in this world deserves love. And when love does strike, it shows no quarter"

"But Miss Buffy needs..."

"Your Miss Buffy _**needs**_ a firm spanking I say!"

"How dare you", Willow gasped. "Take that back you...you...", said the maid in shock as she searched for a term of snide meaning.

"Fine, I apologise. Heh, you really are loyal to her, are you not?"

"As loyal as you are to your Captain", Willow retorted with softening sounds,

"Well said, for I would follow our Captain into the bowels of hell itself and ne'er doubt her word, I will sail with The Slayer and defend her 'til the last drop of my blood will spill", said Kennedy with pride as she stared windward letting her long strands of hair flap in the breeze.

"You would fight until death?

"Indeed"

"Gosh", replied Willow.

"Well, would you not defend Buffy until death?"

"Of course, she is my Mistress...a-and she is my...friend", she finished quietly as she knew the ridicule Buffy had faced back in Greenwich when Willow had made such a claim in front of guests. The idea of a humble maid being equal to a Lady 'twas unthinkable.

"Mayhaps you would let me show you the smile of a blade?", offered Kennedy with hope.

Willow's mouth fell open.

"Y-you mean..."

"Nay, not as victim of the steel. I mean teach you how to use one, on these seas you need to be able to defend yourself a-and would you not want to defend Buffy too?. Would you let me teach you someday?"

"Maybe, one day. But tell me….Miss..?"

"Kennedy"

"Miss Kennedy"

"No, just Kennedy"

"Oh, so tell me…er, _Kennedy_. How does one such as you end up in this life? Were you born 'neath a skull struck flag?"

"Nay, I was…well 'tis a tale for another time m'lady", Kennedy said sadly as she fingered with the knot of her neckerchief, "But being able to live as a free woman, now that surely is all one can thirst for in this world"

"A-and piracy gives you such freedom? In this world you may be not bound by shackles but in the afterlife…..what then?"

"You think I be scared of El Diablo? Nay m'lady, when you have seen what I have, hell holds no fear for me"

"But to keep this life of yours you have to take the lives of others, do you not? H-how many have you slain in your endeavours?", asked Willow not really wanting to know the true toll of her misdeeds.

"As many as I needed, but I do not kill without just cause. But out here, the laws of society have no meaning, this is a place where no one can judge us. Here on the seas there is no law but our own, no judgment from crown nor kin. Just freedom, free to feel what you like and be who you are, m'lady"

"W-why do you keep calling me that? I-I am no lady"

"You are to me", said Kennedy softly as she reached across and pressed her hand to Willow's, as the last of the light finally died away and the moon came out to play.

The shy maid's eyes shot open but as soon as those callused fingers touched her own, her shoulders which had stiffened upon contact loosened like the morals of lady of the night. Though her mind told her to cast off such an act of ungentlemanly conduct, there was no gentleman at hand, but she did not wrench her small hand free, 'twas warm and fit perfectly into her own.

As their fingers clasped Willow's soul did swoon at such an intimacy, for 'til now she had never thought of herself as worthy of a wooing. Her life was one of servitude and minding her station, such notions of romance she had only known in the novels that Buffy had let her read in secret, it was much to the chagrin of their tutor that Mr Summers insisted Willow be schooled as well as Buffy for such a blending of social standings was unseemly.

But now, within this blessed moment, Willow felt her whole world become as blurred as her eyes. For she was but a serving girl and the freedom to love was never a notion she had the heart to entertain, she had lived vicariously through her Mistress and was as chaste as her station demanded.

As their hands entwined with abandon Willow's eyes remained closed as she was lost in the moment, a moment of divine clarity that made her question her whole existence. What would this mean? She was a girl who was rigorous about manners and what was acceptable in polite society, but here she was throwing all she held dear aside. She was a girl who obeyed without question the rigours forced upon the ladies of her time and now she was holding hands with a cad of the sea.

"Willow. Be you alright?", asked Kennedy snapping the redhead from her moment of enlightenment.

"I-I-I think s-so", she gushed in embarrassed delight.

"Do you think…..one evening…you would care to walk with me?", said Kennedy with the kind of rigid protocol one would only expect in polite society.

"Y-you mean to p-promenade with y-y-you…..?"

"Aye, you and me….hand in hand? Maybe even…..play a little shove ha'penny?", said Kennedy with uncustomary shyness.

"_**Without**_ a chaperone? S-such a notion is….is…..I have to…"

Without another juddering word Willow jumped to her feet and ran to the stairs which led to the holds, but as her fear once more clamped around her sense she could not help but stop for a moment, turn back to Kennedy and shoot a fleeting smile which the First Mate accepted with glee.

"_Oh my Lord, what have I done? How can I tell Miss Buffy of my evening? Oh, the shame I have brought upon the Summers' family, after all they have done for me how could I be so callous in my actions? But this Kennedy….she….she….how can I tell Miss Buffy that I-I-I held hands with someone! In public! With a-a-a girl no less, a ruthless pirate at that, and I…I….I think I liked it. Oh shameful I am, what will Miss Buffy think of me now?"_, Willow thought to herself in panic as she rushed into their cabin and shut the door quickly, her face flushing and eyes wet with terror aided tears.

She approached the bed and looked down to see Buffy still sleeping, a gently snore echoing out 'tween murmurs of romantic yearning which soothed the fear of her maid in a wink.

_"Aww, she is no doubt dreaming of her betrothed, Lieutenant Finn is indeed a lucky man to have such a Lady as his wife" __,_thought Willow with a smile as she watched Buffy stir in her sleep.

"Mmmm...just one kiss...yes kiss me... my sweetheart... m-my breast ...touch my...mmmmm ..._Faith",_ Willow's mouth dropped open as her mind recoiled at what her Mistress was saying.

"Miss Buffy, Miss Buffy! Wake up!", Willow said as she shook her Mistress by the shoulders with sharp insistence.

"Wh...what be wrong Willow?", she said groggily as her eyes floundered in the moon glow.

"Oh Miss Buffy, you were having a nightmare! You were saying things of such wick'dness, but all is fine now Miss Buffy. You are safe now", Willow soothed as she hugged Buffy tightly.

The humble maid felt herself most iniquitous at having held hands with someone, a female someone at that, not just because she engaged in such improper conduct without the approval of her Mistress, but she was most shocked and ashamed to find herself enjoying such a small yet honeyed gesture.

But having Buffy entertain such notions was unthinkable, Willow had little to lose in this world but Buffy was a Lady-to-be and should behave in an appropriate manner. As their warm embrace lingered, Willow felt sure that her Mistress was suffering from the lash of fear, fear that the consummation on her wedding night would be anything less than a fairy tale love.

"I...oh yes...a nightmare", Buffy said awkwardly as the images of her slumber stayed with her.

"Shh, Miss Buffy, 'tis all fine now", soothed her maid as she rocked the dizzy lady in her arms.

But Buffy's thought did betray her, "_'Oh sweet mercy, how do I tell my beloved Willow that…it was no nightmare"_

As they hugged they heard a cry from high above in the crow's nest, for sighted on the dim horizon were the glare of beacon and the twist of mastheads each flying a flag of defiance.

"Land hooo!", yelled down Jesse from his unsure perch, he loathed such duties but had drawn the short straw yet again in his game of chance with Warren.

"I'll tell the Cap'n", said Xander as he strode across under the limpid eyes of a rising moon who cast her fair gaze upon the earth.

"Aye, a shant o' gatter is just what I needs", said Spike with a misted eye.

"Indeed, fair maidens and hearty grog await us m'boys", gushed Amy as she felt her purse strings loosen and her gusset moisten with the mere thoughts of the delights which lay ahead. She was a fiend once she felt the crunch of soil 'neath her brogues and this night would be no different for once they made port she would gamble, drink and be merry in ways her father, a scholarly figure of the landed gentry, would damn her for.

"Faith. be you alright?", called out Xander as he stepped into the Captain's cabin lit by the dim glow of lanterns.

'Twas most unusual for the door to be unlocked as he knew that Faith cherished her privacy and Dawn felt most secure being behind sealed doors as she slumbered. Stepping forth the timbers creaked 'neath his feet but he froze as her heard a flintlock cock from behind him.

"Turn and I shall let my shot fly true, Xander. What are you here?"

"I-I thought you should know, Jesse has spotted light off the horizon. We be near port", he said with caution.

"Good. Now take your leave"

"But skipper, what is wrong?", he said as his head began to turn.

"I'm warning you Xander", she said with a strange emotion riding her words.

"Faith, both you and I know you will not pull the trigger. But what do...do...", he trailed off as he span in his boots and saw his beloved Captain.

He felt his eyes deceive him as he spied Faith sitting in her chair with pistol in one hand and a tattered book in t'other, small reading spectacles balanced carefully on the bridge of her nose. She had been so engrossed in the pages cast with grand prose and sentiment that she heard not Xander enter her chamber so had no time to hide her secret.

"Faith, what do...what is...I do not understand"

"Do not dare look at me as if I were jester to your court", she said with a flushing of her cheeks as she loosed her cock and set it down afore her.

"I would ne'er dare, but you…. read? For pleasure?"

"I...", she sighed as her secret which only Dawn knew of was now to be aired, "I cannot lie to ye, Father taught me well, that the written word be a thing of beauty. When needing comfort I….well, I shun the bottle and the lapping of Satsu for it brings me little but frustration. The words of Richard Lovelace bring me calm"

"Why did you feel need to hide this from me? Faith, I have been your friend for many a year now and you know I would not mock thee for such."

"It's just….I miss him so much", she said with a smile of such sadness.

"I do too, I owe Captain Wilkins my life"

"As do I, when I…...", she started not knowing why she should choose such a time to unfurl her truths but she felt her lips move with no mind to stop them,"…when I need to feel close to Father I read, this be the very tome he taught me to read with. 'Twas over these pages that we became kin and it…..it just makes me feel as if he still be here"

"I understand Faith, I truly do. You know I be not the ninny that I would have all and sundry believe"

"I know, but tell no-one Xander, I beseech thee", she said as she slipped the spectacles, rimmed with horn, from her nose and onto the table where she sat her book down.

"Well, if I sup from a bottle or two a word may slip free", he teased with a small grin blossoming on his face.

"You spill a word of this...and I will tell all how you really lost that eye of yours, Mr Harris"

"I lost it when the Priestess Of J'he sliced it with a cutlass", he said matter-of-factly changing his tale once again.

"Xander….you lost it when you were playing cup and ball"

"H-how do you...?"

"Satsu talks in her sleep", she shrugged in reply.

"Well then Captain, my lips will stay silent as long as yours do. But why do you read this?", he said as he picked up the book, it's battered bindings barely clasping the pages as whole, to see stanza peppered with notions of the heart, "Be it...oh, be this because of Miss Summers? Do you think that she..."

"Xander, I...do not...but she be...oh, I know not", she sighed, "But there be something about her which stirs my heart in ways I have not known, but...she is a Lady and I be but privateer. I know no good can come of such idle wishing but she..."

"She has bewitched you? Please Captain, I beg ye to be cautious. Remember…._**her**_?", he said with a guarded look.

"You need not remind me, cully", Faith did snap back as she snatched her tome from his scabbed hands, "Now leave me for I wish to ready for port"

"Very well, I will call all hands t'decks", he said as he left the cabin with a brittle gaiety to his jaunt.

Faith stared from her crack'd window and sighed as she sipped her roasting coffee, "Oh Buffy, why do you vex me so?"

She flicked open her book to the page with bent ear and read the words which spoke truths she did not care to feel; _"Stone walls do not a prison make, nor iron bars a cage"_

Once more a sigh did break forth from her lips as within an instant her mind was veiled by the cruel spectre of reminiscence, of a love lost and a heart that bore one more scar.

And it be all for a woman.

Cordelia.


	5. Chapter 5

_(A fine salute and/or gentle curtsy to (deep breath) Lilly for her invaluable help, but also to Hazzabrabie, Rebecca Ashling, Ltlconf, TheChosenKid, SpySkater, InYourDreamsFluffy, hasc, jmylrt, Anki-Shai, Leehoka3 and Broken Cow. But mainly thanks to A Reader whose simple suggestion spawned this entire chapter (it' all your fault m'dear ;) so here we go. But also big thanks to everyone who's read or reviewed, you doth rock!)_

_**Nassau, nineteen months earlier**_

Her boisterous heart, as if gilded by Seraph's stitch, blossomed 'neath the kiss of Cordelia whose skin was soft as mink as her shoulders, far from listless, were pushed back into the goose feather home their bodies now nested in. Their throats did utter primal noise as carnal abandon swallowed them whole, a shameless throbbing swelled from within as buttock and breast called for attentive touch. Hair, discordant and dampened, flailed as if they be tendrils borne of devilish scheme as the two damnable damsels flinched with each lustrous meeting of moist lips and aching fundament.

Faith's skin, with a glistening sheen to snatch the flickering candlelight, thrust forth against the body of Cordelia, the pirate's fingers nestling within her eaves as moan and cry did escape from her with a sultry rush. Fingers which were as trapped as pilloried maidens and ne'er to be released until awash with the nectar of lust, Cordelia's carafe of sin did overflow and both would willingly be escorted to the grave if this bleeding of hearts were any less than the purest joy offered by the depraved arts.

"Hold fast my beauty", sighed Faith as her love writhed under her, but the pirate Queen was well acquainted with the turbulence of the seas and so the shuddering smelted form which lay under the silken sheets was no match for Faith's commands of indecency during this molten intertwining of harmonies seldom sung.

A single trail of drool, as if spun by lascivious spiders, hung from her succulent lips connecting her to the Lady with whom she was entangled, by both body and heart. Cordelia's slender fingers raked across the criss-cross of scars which ravaged Faith's back, a flogging courtesy of the Portuguese Navy the first time she had been captured on the high seas. The lashing was but a distant memory to the Captain now as she had hunted down The Orpheus and, with that one maelstrom of bloody vengeance, birthed her legend.

The thrice widowed Countess of D'Agor bucked in surrender at Faith's touch, her raven tresses matted as her maidenhead did weep with ecstasy. Though her last husband was barely cooled within his ornate tomb Cordelia's lust was seldom sated and so had opened her chamber most graciously to the pummels of this rogue whose beauty was unmatched.

For twelve days and nights Faith and Cordelia had been enamored of each other, the strength of the Countess had enchanted the Captain as within her battle rich eyes there was rarely a greater aphrodisiac than a woman who knew her own mind. 'Twas across a knavish parlor their gaze did first clash, the flagon of warmed mead in the Captain's hand was quaffed in an instant as her gullet felt it's tang and lust's footprints did take her. The ebony glare of the Countess engulfed her dizzied sense and Faith did nothing but let herself be reeled in to flounder within Cordelia's eyes that sparkled with decadence and desire.

Though she had turned her nose to Faith 'pon first meeting there was a strange bewitchment about Cordelia which had enslaved the buccaneer enough to let her guard down and seek that which taunted her most; the notion of true love. Moonlit assignations and the gift of wilted petal was more than Faith had ever offered before, she was a glutton when it came to the basted gusset but within the sharpened embrace of the Countess, which came after the second day's pursuit, she felt more than just the dampened twitching of her cunnikin. For Faith had ne'er tasted a lady without feeling inclined or obliged to cross her palm with coin for stirring then sating her lust, and yet within the confines of the Countess' chamber her heart was, for once, free to soar.

'Twas a fight that no blade nor shot could help with, no victor to be proclaimed come morning, and it was this struggle which had so enraptured Faith casting off the cautious words of her shipmates as she wanted but one thing; to be with Cordelia. And for the last two sunrises they had yet to leave the Countess' boudoir.

But Faith, her heart finally tempered, cared not for the time that passed, her delight was untamed as the Countess used her wicked tongue 'pon her spinster's folly and feasted upon it as if fatted calf on the winter solstice. Her lips were on a pilgrimage to Faith's sainted lower quarters and papist demand would not halt her moistened stride.

The dread pirate had willingly succumbed to the yearning which had been gnawing at her for many a moon as she had grown weary of Satsu's measured lapping, she had left her pistol and cutlass, the vestments of her ill-fated office, leaning against the far wall of the chamber as she, at last, felt safe, loved and whole once the Countess worshipped at her austere gatehouse.

"Faithhhhhhhh!", Cordelia rasped as her body bucked like a broken mare as her lady's dew wept from her sweetened gorge.

With breath fighting bitterly for solace they lay there, two souls as one whose rapacity knew no bounds as they wallowed in love's rousing bliss. Faith brushed the dampened locks from her lover's face and smiled gently before, with near reverence, laid the gentlest kiss she could e'er bestow on the satin lips of the baroque Countess.

"I...I want to….I…"

"Hush, my love", replied Cordelia pressing a thin finger to Faith's lips before circling them with an exquisitely chiseled nail.

"Nay Cor...I must…..I just want to...say….I...", the proud Captain stammered as she felt her words fail her, a notion which both perplexed and intimidated her.

"What, my sweet?", asked the smiling widow as her ruby earrings swung in silence.

Faith took a deep and purging breath before saying the words she had oft uttered during the thorned throes of passion but ne'er said with honesty in the wake of pleasure.

"I...I….I love you", Faith said with a slow creeping blush as she drowned within the simmering eyes of the Countess.

Cordelia said naught in reply, she simply kissed Faith on the flushed cheek and slid from the tangled sheets strolling over to the dresser to return with two glasses of wine. The Captain still held caution's mane tightly and was yet to sup wine with her beloved but now, as her skin shivered 'neath the Countess' dazzling glare, Faith found herself eager to drink as many's the times past she had used a gallon o' porter for a pillow.

"A toast"

"Aye...to what though?", asked Faith as she took the offered glass, with her heart opened so wide she felt unsure as to what her head should heed, but in the hands of the Countess she felt the warmth of security she had not felt since the passing of her father.

"To...passion", Cordelia replied with a fiendish timbre at odds with the fawning smile she bore.

"Aye...to passion", Faith replied as she drank down her wine in one hearty swig. There was something so new about this, after a lifetime of hiding her feelings for fear of hurt twisting its roots into her, Faith felt as if she was reborn into this world. The world of piracy and bloodshed seemed as if little more than a tale to be recalled in an aged bed for the good Captain would willingly forsake her life of old and seek land bound redemption if Cordelia was to be her reward.

As Faith drained her glass she knelt up and took the slick bounteous breasts of the Countess into her hands, though these mounds were of God's finest creation and smeared with the stain of puckered lips, they were of such delicacy that Faith's hands could knead them 'til the rapture.

"Cor...when I said 'I love you', what did you...wait...oh, heh, this wine has made my…. h-head spin", Faith coughed with a smile as the Countess did naught but watch as the Captain lay back on the bed.

Her sight blurred and her strength sapped in but a wink, a sickness did creep into Faith as her mind slowed to victim's pace.

"Nighty, night Faithy", were the last words she did hear from the lips of Cordelia which were now twisted into a cruel mockery of a smile.

"C-Cor...I..."

Blackness descended upon the Captain and she knew not how long slumber had cast it wick'd spell upon her. A turbulent night of unholy image and shamed recollection haunted those hours of darkness, but fear would not relinquish its hold until a sudden blinding light seared her waking moment.

"Wakey, wakey!"

"Huh?", Faith murmured with a sturdy scowl of confusion.

The voice rang strange as Faith stirred from her enforced quiet, her skin felt cold and her eyes ached but as she went to rub the silt of sleep away a heavy clinking echoed in her ears.

She held up a wrist to her face and, as shock bedeviled her sense, she sprang upright and yanked with a panic tinged fervor against the rusting shackles which were locked around her wrists.

"What the he...?", she asked as she felt the chill of iron also locked to her ankles.

"My, what a heavy sleeper you be, Faith. Mayhaps I used too much of the sleeping draft", came the voice of Cordelia.

Faith looked up to see, on the other side of the iron bars, the Countess in her finest green velvet gown smirking victoriously, she looked as if she were ready to wander the cobbled streets of Greenwich to greet folk of fair nature, not a woman who belonged in such a foul air as this. The Captain's throat grew dry and her heart felt a blade, though not forged of steel, slice right to her very soul as she stared at the haughty woman.

"C-Cordy...what….?"

"Welcome to Nassau gaol Captain, though you will see little of it. Just this measly cell where you spend the last hours of your life for come morning you have a meeting with the gallows my dear. To think, no man nor ship could catch you, but show you a Lady with a lifted petticoat and you willingly surrender all you hold dear, how feeble you be"

"B-but…..why?", Faith said with ragged breath as her tears fought to remain shallow as, since the day her swaddling clothes were cast aside, she had ne'er been so vulnerable.

"Why? Because it be my trade, no man nor flag could ever hope to fall the great Captain Lehane so I was paid to exploit your weakness, to seduce and deliver you to the King's men. Tut-tut, my Faith, you were so blinded by lust and hope for more….. that you have now lost all"

As the heavy chains rattled and the twin flares of sorrow and shame burst within Faith's breast she realized that she was wearing but a simple gown, little more than a funeral shroud to cover her though dignity already was all but stripped from her.

"You like your dress? It seemed like such a waste to put you in anything more seeing as by first light you will be hang'd"

"B...but...I...I..."

"Oh, poor Faithy really is in love, are you not?", cooed Cordelia as she came closer leaning her hands on the bars as the jade canvas of her dress plumped out before her, "You are pathetic Captain, no-one could ever love a filthy creature like you. I am the closest you will ever find to love...and I despise you."

Faith stumbled from the wooden slats that were her bed and crossed the straw covered stone floor, her blood thundering through the wounds as she gripped the rusting shafts of iron that kept her confined as if she were little more than a beast.

"Still, it wasn't _all_ bad", Cordelia said with a whisper, "Your kisses are like they are sweetened by heaven's promise , you will die soon...but as a final grace to you, how about I let you kiss me one last time. One last kiss before you swing?"

Faith said naught as to be played for a fool burnt her as if she were but a Protestant bound to flaming timbers, a grimace corrupted her pretty face as she wished for but one chance to avenge herself upon the cornucopian goddess before her.

Without a word, Faith's heart sealed shut ne'er to be opened again, and spat in the face of the Countess who stood back in shock. Cordelia took a delicate handkerchief and dabbed at the thickened spittle on her rouged beauty and turned to leave, not before giving one last look to Faith whose palms reddened as her grasp of the bars grew ever stronger. Her eyes but burning portholes that seared with each triumphant step of the well-dressed woman who laughed at the Captain's last futile attempt at rebellion.

"Faith, when you swing...know that you were put there by your own lust. For nairy will a loathsome monster like you find love. No one will ever love you Faith… no-one"

The Captain watched the heavy oak door shut with a boom and she was left alone. Her teeth did grind and her eyes became bloodshot as she felt the rage swell within her firm chest, to scream her anger was all she wished but the parching of her throat quelled her cries for her anger was as a spring loaded powder horn ready for priming. But she knew the taste of vengeance always left one hungering for more.

She shuffled back across her spartan cell, the scornful clink of the shackles growing with each small step until she pressed her back against the furthest wall and slumped down as the age of consequence dawned within her. For she was Captain Faith Lehane, the most feared cut-throat of the Caribbean, and now she was but a fiend clapped in iron garters.

And she be felled by a woman.

…

"Oh woe, no one suffers like I. A martyr I be to all that is agony in this world", whined Governor Flutie as he used his carefully carved walking sticks to cross the brightness of the receiving room where flowing muslin curtains of a dazzling gold and burgundy did reside in all their gaudy importance. Gout had ravaged his foot and as the heavy bandages skimmed across his fanciful tiles he admired the dignity and strength he found within himself to bear such a burden.

"Sir, I trust you have been satisfied with my work", said Cordelia as she walked alongside him heading towards her carriage which awaited by the gates of the gaol.

"Indeed my Lady, I cannot wait to tell your Master that I am most impressed by your wiles.", he said, but as these words span their web Cordelia clenched at the mere mention of _**him**_.

"Thank you Sir, I will pass on your kind words"

"Good show. By jingo, who would have believed that a woman of such a fearsome repute could be hoodwink'd so", he laughed as his jowels rippled with glee, the powdered wig shifted upon his balding pate as he felt his mirth purify his aching.

"Now Governor, the monies you promised?", she asked with a certain nobility of purpose.

"Of course I...oh, damned be th'prating!", he gasped as his pain ravaged foot relayed its obscene message throughout him once more, "When is that blasted Doctor arriving here?"

"Governor, he will be with us within a week. I have heard that this Doctor Osbourne was of a fine medical stock before he steered from the path of righteousness", replied his aide who fluffed at his laced cravat.

"Good, for I can bear such agonies no more. Oh Saints preserve us, how do I manage to Govern these islands while I suffer so?", wailed the bumbling, muddle headed man.

"Ahem….. Sir, the monies?", asked Cordelia as she waited impatiently. She knew of the penny pinching ways of the faint hearted Governor of Nassau and so, with no qualm nor quandary, slid her thin silver blade from the sleeve of her dress ready to slice his skin if he paid her a farthing less than what he owed.

"Of course, here they be", he said as a purse of plain decoration slipped from his wiskit and into the hand of the cruel wench.

"Thank you Sir, I bet you are most relieved to be seeing Captain Lehane be hang'd"

"Oh nay, I have not the stomach for it. If I were to see the eyes of the condemned before the hangman earned his keep, then I would falter in my convictions and pardon them. I do not care see them suffer in their cells nor take their short drop, such barbarity is necessary but I have not the will to see my word of execution carried forth", Governor Flutie said with the mewl of an infant as he was of an effete nature with no eye for death.

"I see, well I must bid you good day Sir", said the Countess with a small curtsy as the Governor, his skin like bark tanned canvas, bowed in reply.

"Good day to you as well my dear. And thank you"

The Countess did not reply, she merely turned and strode through the dust of the courtyard which lunged at her heels. She would not look back nor return to this island, 'twas a vow she made each time a renegade fell 'neath her spell and paid for it with their life.

…..

"Aye, some here are as young as nine but criminals they still be, but we have the birch and the cat to keep them in line. Solitary confinement is also a common punishment, this one here be charged with witchcraft, a most sinister and debauched practice", said the gaoler in his softened voice as he showed his guests a young woman bound by mouth and wrist, a trail of blood tarnishing her dark skin.

As the sharpened footpads snapped 'pon the stone floor Faith could feel her wrath clenching her bones for though she felt no fear at being a boarder in the House Of Whipcord she despised it's very ways. As the voices came ever closer her knuckles crack'd loudly as she sat in the shaft of light which shone through the narrow slit of her cell.

"And here be our guest of honour on Rogues Parade ye might say. One Captain Faith Lehane, terror of the seas and by morn she will haunt us no longer once she dances the hempen jig. Sentenced for… crimes against the crown, piracy, smuggling, conspiracy against the church, depravity, degradation and general lawlessness", he said reading her death warrant which bore the still wet signature of the Governor.

Faith looked up to see the key wrangler stop in front of her cell flanked by two elegantly attired persons, her face curling up in disdain at their idle curiosity, peering at her in the small cell which would measure no more than five feet in any direction.

A smartly dressed man and his lady friend stepped forward, their noses twitched at the foul scent of the gaol but this was a popular pastime for the landed gentry and their betrothed, for a shilling or two they could be shown the wretches who awaited their demise at the end of a rope. Their morbid curiosity as callous as it was habitual. They thought little of staring at the exhibits to be mocked and jeered before death's hand snuffed the life from them and trundled their souls up Jib-Jaks Hill.

"My dear Clemence, why did it take so long to capture such a fugitive traitor as she?", said the tall gentleman as he held his monocle up to better spy the bedraggled pirate who felt her hate commandeer her whole.

"She oft used false guises when committing her deeds, a _purser's name_ to the muster book, when in Havana she was known as Gertrude Davies, a spiritualist harpy. And it is said she once disguised herself as a gentleman and tried to pass as heir to the largest whaling company in Nantucket…."

"She said she was kith and kin of Messrs. Pantone and Tasker?", said the gaunt man in shock as he held his small bag of posies to his nose to scour his passages of the lingering stench of the dungeon.

"You know of them?", asked the bloated gaoler in surprise.

"Indeed I do, they be of charming and hirsute character, not in-keeping with idle rogues and cut-throats. The cheek of it!"

"Oh, she is such a beast. Chains and nooses are too good for the likes of her", said the conceited woman as she held a hand, clad in a dainty lacy white glove, to her chin in wonder.

"Come closer … and I'll knock your toplights out, killick", growled Faith. She was a woman of pride and strength and now she was clapped in irons and treated as an idle curio by the blessed upper echelons of society she cared not for any jibe thrown at her.

"Silence, filth", yelled Clemence, plump as a yuletide goose, as he struck his wooden stick against the bars of her cell.

"Or what? You'll hang me?", sneered Faith in return.

"Adam, let us go.", said the flustered young lady to her gentleman friend as she gripped his arm tighter in fear of the imprisoned privateer.

"Of course my dear, fare thee well Captain. We shall smile as you swing", the gentleman said as he slipped his coins to the gaoler before leaving Faith alone once more to stew in her own bile of resentment.

Faith's rage pumped her blood well, it swelled her veins and she cursed her heart for being so easily trick'd. She damned herself, she damned her weakness but most of all she damned the tears which ran from her eyes, not because of deaths' imposition for she had not the Jonesey's for the grim reaper, but for a love she was foolish enough to believe was real. She sighed heavily as, despite her wrath, she could not find in herself to damn the Countess who had bewitched and betrayed her.

Being condemned to die on land was the final insult for a vixen of the waves such as she, as Faith paced across the cold stone floor she wished to feel the lift and fall of the deck 'neath her feet, to hear the wash and slop of tide striking the hull of her ship one last time but alas 'twas not to be. She was destined to dance at the end of a rope and she herself had tightened that knot of the noose round her neck, all for the love of a woman.

The last words of Cordelia branding her heart for all time "No one will ever love you Faith…no-one"

…..

"Who be ye?", asked the roughhewn gaoler, his stomach bloated and his one remaining tooth standing proud.

"I be the hangman", said the shadowy figure who shuffled through the clogging murk of the cells, "Hence the hood"

"Aye, I see. But the hanging is not until the morrow"

"I like my face not to be known"

"I understand, what be in the sack , _stranger_?", asked Clemence, a man of unsated appetite, motioning to the long hessian sack that swung from the hangman's narrow shoulders.

"Shrouds for the soon to be departed, tomorrow be a busy day. At least a dozen necks to be stretched and I take pride in my work", said the hooded man with an odd strain to his words as he took a pew next to the pale hummock of a gaoler.

Faith's ears pricked up hearing this voice, a scarlet horizon now swept into her blacken'd anguish and she stepped closer to the thick bars. The shackles on her wrists and ankles clinking in the melancholy light of the damp stone cell where rats did gnaw on the rotten fodder that was to be her last meal. She knew not how much time had passed as she sat in the eerie dank cell that would serve as her oubliette 'til sunrise.

"But first", said the hangman with a warming smile, "Would thou care to share a jar of arrack?"

The gaoler bore his ugly smile as a dark bottle slipped from the sack, the fermented molasses was a strong tipple and was cumshaw to the likes of he.

"Now that is something I would gladly do with ye, _f_riend", Clemence said with glee as he plucked the cork, sniffed at the glooping vapours and swigged with joy as the tainted spirit filled his gullet.

"So tell me friend, what manner of cur be this?", said the hangman pointing his cracked fingernails to Faith who sneered in return.

"Oh she be a pirate, the most vicious of fiends who ever took port and once you knot that halter tight round her neck then….let me tell you….yo…..y….", Clemence said with a stagger as his eyes rolled shut and his rotund form slumped to the floor with a fattened thud.

"Never trust a man with a bottle my friend, you never know what may be in it", said the brawny cove who whipped off his blackened hood in one fell swoop.

"About time Xander, what kept ye?", said Faith as her smile found its way back to her rounded face upon seeing her most trusted of picaroons.

"Sorry Cap'n, but I had to be a tad more cunning than when we were in Porto Bello", he rushed out recalling the furious chaos of when they had set to save Warren and Anya from being scragged.

"Meaning what? Blasting powder and fast horses served us well that day"

"Aye, but this be different. Now let us take our leave of this place"

"And how do you propose we do that?", asked the svelte freebooter.

"We will simply walk out the front gate", Xander said abruptly as he propped the dozing Clemence against the yew table so that the vermin whom inhabited the cells would not feast 'pon his face.

"The front gate? Surely you jest?"

"Nay", Xander said as he delved into the hessian sack and pulled out a fine suit of deepest blue which he slipped over his clothes and, once he sat the cockaded plain black hat on his crown, he did indeed cut a respectful swash, "Now come on"

"Ahem", Faith replied holding aloft her wrists which still felt the cruel bite of iron.

"Oh right, sorry", he said back as he took the keys from the gaoler and opened the cell before unlocking her shackles which dropped with a pained clang, 'twas in this moment that Faith's hatred for the binding of man was sealed.

"Quick put these on", Xander hurried as he handed her the sack, his fearsome mutton chops rustling in his frenzy of effort as he warily spied for more guards.

Faith pulled open the frayed sack and her mouth hung open as her eyes widened in alarm. Her hand reached in and recoiled in horror at the contents which he had deemed fit for her to don.

"Xander, tell me you are drunken for no way do you think this be fitting attire for…", she said with a whine enwrapping within her words.

"Clap a stopper on it Faith, just put the damn'd things on"

"Why should I have to wear this? You give me _**your**_ clothes and _**you**_ put this on", she said with a hint of panic and embarrassment as the clothes in the sack seemed to taunt her.

"We have no time. Just put it on, there are over two hundred soldiers in the garrison and as skilled as you are with a blade we would lose, then _**both**_ our necks would be stretched", he said bluntly.

Faith stood there, mouth agape as his words made sense, but she was now trapped within his plan. If she did not don the guise then she would be the death of her dearest friend and though she held her own life as a game of chance she would not gamble on his life as well.

"I…I…fine", she snorted, "Turn around...I said turn around", she said in earnest as she dampened her haggard gown with the stale water in the dented tin cup.

"Very well, but hurry for who knows what yeomanry are lingering"

Within the passing of but a minute or two Faith let out a dry scratching cough making Xander turn on his brogues, he saw her brow be harrowed, her face flushed with shame and her body contorted with awkward poise.

"Blast m'eyes, Faith...I...", he said with a shockened face, not just at her state of attire but the beauty it beheld.

"One word Mr Harris, just _**one **_word and ….", she growled back as she stepped forward. Within the dim glow of the melting candles stood Faith, she was wearing a flowing ivory gown with delicate silk bows of deep crimson and a full bustle which rustled in mockery with each step she took. The bodice was tight around her slender frame and, from ankle wrapped hem to lacey shoulder, there were intricate flowers stitched of golden thread which caught and flared in the light.

"Nay, I would not dare mock thee. But ye…..ye look beautiful, Faith", he gushed taking in her freshly cleansed face which for once showed the true measure of her youth.

"Do not dare jape with me Xander!", she snapped with anger secured to the shank of her spiel as she squirmed and jiggled in the billowing gown.

"I speak the truth, you look truly beautiful. Captain Wilkins was right about you in a gown, you should have heeded his words sooner"

Faith just hung her head slightly as here, with the creak of the gallows within reach, she fulfilled the one wish of her father much too late.

"Aye….but….ne'er-you-mind, let us say our farewells to this hole"

"Not so fast Faith. Ye will be recognized , the hat too, you need to hide your face as much we can", Xander said trying to keep a terse expression as he watched his skipper's fingers play nervously with the lace cuffs which dangled from the puffed sleeves.

"Oh for hell's...fine", she snorted as the matching bonnet with a wide brim slipped over her head trapping her snarls of oily hair, the long silken sashes slipped round each other 'til tied into a huge white bow which tickled her chin as she felt no death was worth trading for an embarrassment such as this.

"Now come on", Xander said as he handed her the last item which slipped from the sack.

"You have got to be..."

"Just take it and come on", he said with exasperated breath as he slipped behind her to tie the large floppy bow which hung across her fanciful bustle which hid her flawless dungbie.

Faith snatched it from his hand and puffed it out fully, the dainty lace parasol now sat against her shoulder and, despite the oppressive grime of the gaol, she looked as wondrous a beauty as the Lord ever created.

Xander stepped forth and swung the heavy timbers of the door open and they sneaked along the twisting passageway, which held all the musky closeness of a gundeck, and readied to step into the courtyard.

"Now they will think we have just paid our shilling to see the condemned of the day, all we must do is act like members of fine society and we will simply walk out the front gate", he reasoned paying little heed to the reddened face of his Captain.

Xander held out his arm in a crooked loop for Faith to take and, as much as she recoiled at such a dependent gesture, she knew that to hurry their flight she had to act like a lady of refinement and so reluctantly slid her arm through his and they readied to set foot. She felt so strange, the heeled shoes tied with ribbon squeezed at her toes, the long flowing petticoats tickled her smoothened legs, her bosom swelled 'neath the lace trim which swept round her chest, all of it befuddled her sense.

"Come on Faith, just put your shoulders back, head up and swing those hips of yours", he said from the side of his nervous smile as he nodded to passing soldiers seeking refuge from the glare of the sun. Many a gentleman and lady had passed through the gates on the way to Rogues Parade and so took no notice of the bonneted lady whose face burnt with humiliation at being so attired.

"Xander, if you think I'm going to…", she whispered harshly as the dress floated around her.

"Faith, will you just be a man about it…..and act like a woman", he scoffed.

"What does that mean?"

"No time to quibble, let us go", he said as he hauled her by the arm out into the yard brimming with well drilled soldiers whose muskets would ring their snap if they knew of their true identities.

But as they stepped forth Xander looked on with a sense of wonder, the image of delicacy that he wore on his arm was indeed a sight to behold as he thought she would merely stomp with all the grace of a gin ridden bliddy-necker. Instead, Faith took to prancing like a Lady with ease, gliding across the crack'd earth as if she were truly of noble birth, a chaste and virtuous woman of much envy in the ballrooms of the colonies.

"If you so much as …", she said in hushed tones through her forced smile but before more words of a deceitful manner could pour forth from her lips they were cut off by a prying call which carried with it little strength.

"Greetings my dears, have you been to cast a snook over the rogues?"

They halted in their tracks as they came across Governor Flutie who was walking gingerly back to his chambers after his tiresome, but insisted upon, inspection of the guard in their brassy splendor. They baulked at his presence but seeing naught but a jovial grin on his portly features they sighed in silence as he recognized them not.

"Indeed, 'twas a...a fine thing to see, Sir. Knowing that you are in such control of these waters and we are safe from pirate and ne'er-do-wells, well it warms the heart. Isn't that true m'dear", said Xander to Faith who flinched under their glare knowing what, in order to reach her freedom, she would have to do.

"I...I...indeed Sir, such foul wretches are...so...so...foul", she stammered out in a higher pitch as never in all her life had she felt so foolish and humbled.

"Indeed they be. But my, what a pretty thing you are", the Governor said with a smile which, under the blazing midday sun, seemed to yellow his teeth all the more.

Xander bit his lip so as not to call out in pain as Faith's fingernails dug into his arm, her grip was like sharpened stakes being driven into his skin as she liked not such words to be said unto her by a Mongseer such as he.

"Why….. thank you good Sir", she forced through her narrowing lips.

"Will ye be at the hanging tomorrow?", Governor Flutie asked as he stared on at the young girl before him in the shimmering dress.

"Not likely", Faith sniggered under her breath but sensing the startled unease of Xander she steered her tidings into more frivolous waters, "I mean…..er…. we are to take tea with the Pastor and to p-promenade in the orchards so we will not have time. I…we…..er… 'tis a most fearsome of gaols you command here, good Sir"

"Well thankyou my dear, now if you will excuse me", said the Governor with a bow which Xander returned with haste.

Faith merely stood there grinning at his performance until Xander fired a sharp nudge to her ribs which scratched under the tight grip of the dress, she gritted her teeth at what she must do but she took a hand, raised her little finger, and held the side of her skirts before dropping into a deep curtsy which billowed out the snowy canvas, her parasol flouncing in the breeze and her flowery bonnet dipping as she ducked in respect.

Once the Governor had stumbled off, the pewter hilt of his walking cane cracking against the sun parched dirt of the courtyard, the two devious pirates walked towards the gates with an increased urgency. But as Faith now took dainty steps of a feminine panache, swinging her gown as she thought fitting of a true lady of the times, it took longer to reach their exit, to finally breach the broad blue seas and heed the beckoning call of distant shores.

"Xander, if you so much as...", she growled through clamp'd teeth as she wore a smile of a debutante mincing through the courtyard until they, at last, stepped outside the gates and breathed with hardy relief.

"To the mills, my fine fellow", said Xander to their carriageman who gripped the leather reins tightly and fought with hell's might to hold in the bellowing laugh which brewed deep within.

"O-of course good Sir, why, doesn't m'Lady look divine", sniggered the carriageman as they boarded. Faith's face hauled into a grimace of shame as she saw the helmsman of the horses was naught but a crude guise for a most amused Kennedy.

As the two horses broke into stride and the carriage pulled away through the bustling streets filled with vagabond and trader alike, Faith leaned forward and jabbed forth with her parasol.

"Ken, one word...just _**one**_ damn word and I will..."

"But you look so lovely m'Lady", the latina sniggered back as the prods of the parasol in her hunched back were of little consequence for the memory of a moment such as this would last a lifetime.

"Ken...hold your tongue and…..and we will call us even, on _**all**_ scores", Faith blushed back as she tried to sit still and straight so as not to raise suspicion of the fleeting populace of the heaving town.

"Aye m'Lady. Even we be", came the reply.

"Stop _**calling**_ me that", the fleeing pirate Queen sighed as she took in the cherished air of freedom.

They rode though the busy streets as the thick wooden wheels whirred on cobble 'til the din of Nassau's burgeoning port was left in the distance. Out through the dirt roads where wheat and hops did sway gently on either side 'til they reached a small cove on the far side of the island where a four oared gig awaited them.

They rowed round the cliffed shore until The Slayer came in sight, but before any spyglass could spot their Captain looking so ladylike Faith snatched the bonnet from her and launched it seaward. The parasol and dress soon shredded and followed in to the dreary abandon of the sea as, though the garments would fetch a fine penny, she ne'er wanted to be reminded of Nassau again and that which was lost.

"Both of you...let us ne'er talk of this", said Faith pensively now clad in only what was to be her shroud of death as she felt the wisp of salted air 'pon her skin once more.

"Aye Cap'n, our lips are sealed", said Kennedy as Xander nodded in agreement. They smiled widely at Faith as she ran her hands through the still waters and felt the stirring of the soul that she only found with the bob and nip of the waves.

"I owe you both, I am indebted to you", said Faith quietly with a serious sheen to her words

"Nay Cap'n, we owe _**you**_ much."

"But you still risked all to salvage me"

"Faith, name but one of our crew who would not risk all for you. We all pledged our fealty to you and The Slayer, 'tis our honor to serve with you", said Xander as his oars glided through the surf with ease.

"I thank ye, truly I do.", said the Captain with dour solemnity thankful that she left her father's blade on board as, if she had taken it ashore, it would have been cast to the hawker's bazaar by now and no doubt bartered for grog.

"But still….._**ONE**_ word!", Faith said with a scowl as they smiled back amused, her own dimple blessed grin soon flourishing in reply.

As they reached their vessel and saw Jacob's ladder awaiting Faith cast one last look back at Nassau and fought the sob from within her full chest as her heart stitched itself shut, a thread that would not be tugged upon again. She had been made fool of and near lost all, for the sake of love. She vowed that love would ne'er steer her wrong again, for love was a flaw she could live without.

But despite the joviality of her shipmates at her return, the Captain's heart still ached at Cordelia's betrayal and she hoped, nay prayed, that one day their path's would cross again.

And on that eve the Countess will rue the day she ever met Captain Faith Lehane.

….

"Cap'n, off the starb'd bow. We have reached port", came the excited call from above which snapped Faith from her aching memories which had pained her much in the last year and a half.

"I hear thee!", she called back as she snatched up pistol and cutlass and made sure fresh straw graced her gusset for, once more, she had to bow 'neath the wizened cloak of menses.

Faith stepped out of her cabin and on to the deck awash with moonlight, standing alongside her scurrilous crew she breathed in the rich scent of cinnamon and smithy alike wafting from the harbour.

"Have ye ever seen such a delight?", purred Amy with wide eyes as she overhauled the clewlines.

"Nay, I have a hand of gold and a thirst for all The Black Dog can give", replied Mr Gunn with glee. "We _**are**_ heading to The Black Dog are we not, Cap'n"

"Aye", said Faith as she straightened her tri corner hat and drew her bandolier tight flashing a toothsome grin. "'Tis time to see Madam Dru"


	6. Chapter 6

(A HUGE thankyou to everyone who's read and reviewed, but I must add MickTrex, DushkuHasDibs and CustomHeroine to my ever growing thanks list. This being chapter six is officially the longest fic I have ever written, I know that doesn't seem much but for someone like me, it's a ruddy miracle. Once again I have tweaked earlier chapters slightly so if anyone is doing the old copy n' save thing you may want to overwrite. I admit this chapter is kind of long and rambling but I got a bit carried away. Enjoy!)

**.**

…**.….**

**.**

"Weigh anchor and haul to, Mr Harris", said Faith with churlish glee as she spied the ghostly pinpricks of the port, each golden flame a beacon for unholy tryst and passing fancy.

"Aye, aye Cap'n", he replied as the scream of hemp rang out followed by the slither and flap of the canvas as the mainsails came down. The mooring line fastened well round the creaking timbers of the aged jetty that had greeted more ships and ne'er-do-wells than Beelzebub himself.

"Tis even a fairer sight than Marrakesh", grinned Warren as Marcie awkwardly helped buckle his scabbard before using a touch o' spit on her own boots to cover the scuffs and fraying leather.

"I…if you say so", she said softly for she was not one for brashness.

"Oh sorry, I...I forgot", said Warren a little sheepishly, his apology was true as any he had ever uttered.

"It was a long time ago now, it matters not", she lied as she slipped her purloined timepiece into her pocket wondering if ever she would know how to read it.

The great chain rattled off the deck of The Slayer and with its loud splash into the sea the crew cheered as it had been many a moon since they had made port in this haven of grog and harlotry. It had taken near an hour to make port and the Captain had used the time wisely declaring a change of clothes for both herself and Buffy, both yet to re-emerge from their respective chambers as the deck swirled with bustling brigands eager to feel the crunch of earth 'neath their feet.

"B-but why c-can I not come? I-I am not a-a-afraid", stammered out the untruths of a fretful Willow.

"Nay lass, only one t'go ashore, t'other stays on-board, Cap'n's orders", smiled Spike as he watched the mist of port beckon him, the blue grey plumes of smoke rising from each brazier tickling the night sky.

"B-but why?", asked Willow with distress, "'Tis my p-place to be by Miss Buffy's s-side and if she…"

"If your Mistress should decide to flee she will not leave ye stranded here and so will return to The Slayer. Or, if somehow you wrest control of our ship and, by some stretch of the mind, ye manage to sail away, ye will not do so without her. Yer loyalty has been well shown and so the skipper has used it against thee, think of it as a guarantee that neither will take flight nor betray us for fear of the consequence brought t'other", said Jesse with casual manner.

Willow fidgeted from foot to foot as she looked out across the port which echoed with villainy and a feverish chaos, her palms were clammy and her long dress of a soft shade of brown seemed to weigh heavier than usual.

"If one of you should choose to run, well, you might be introduced to The Captain's Daughter", chuckled Mr Gunn wistfully as he drew his white shirt of simplest cotton over his well-muscled frame.

"A-a daughter? Faith has a d-daughter? How did she…I thought she was…so h-how did….", babbled Willow with wide eyes having not seen hide nor hare of such an infant on board.

"Oh ye mumpin lubberstand", laughed Spike, "Tis another name for the cat, though she has ne'er unleashed th'whip on any on board our ship….y'never can tell with the Cap'n. When I were flogged back in th'Navy, those buggers knotted each thong thricely so it tore the flesh from yer bones"

Willow stopped in her meek tracks of worry as the grimace of Spike, a pressed man, showed her the truth of his story, though she still feared that he would show her the wake of the lash forever etched into his skin.

"I, for one, cannot wait to visit the town, I am sick of our bed", Anya sneered at the shy maid snapping her from her stillness.

Since their cabin had been turned over to their guests, Anya and Xander had been cloistered in the orlop and, come the passing of nightsoil, the foul stench had burned at their senses for the open platform with many a hole cut into it, lashed to the aftmost section of the bowsprit, was next to their new sleeping quarters. Though none aboard was suffering from the flux, the constant swash of salted water on the private areas of every jack-tar following their necessaries was irking Anya most strongly. But still, it was better than sleeping head to toe in the garrets with the sodden shicers and foetid smell of the wet rogues of the waves.

"Spike, I…", started Kennedy feeling strangely quiet seeing as, though she was but a stone's throw away from probing tongue and the promise of rum, she felt no desire to scatter pieces of eight before the ladies of the night.

"Aye, I know. Ye won our wager t'other night, have much merriment while I stays 'ere", he sighed back as he prepared himself for a night at the helm. While the rest of the crew caroused and drank he would stand alone with only Wesley for company though, on occasion, he would be called upon to soothe the night terrors which plagued Dawn.

"Nay, I were thinking….maybe _**I**_ could stay aboard and _**ye**_ go enjoy the lap o' the ladies"

"Really? But why? Surely ye hunger t'see The Black Dog as much as I and if ye feel…oh", he finished softly as he followed Kennedy's shy gaze to Willow standing aft who toyed anxiously with her hands awaiting Buffy's return from their cabin.

"What?", scoffed the latina in reply.

"Nowt lass, I guess ye be lustin' for 'er lips again", he smirked.

"Shut up Spike", Kennedy said with a curious blush.

"Hold, have ye not even kissed her? She hath been on board for what, three days now, and ye have not even touched lip? Heh, surely that must be some kind o' record"

"I said…"

"Hah, and you have yet to ask 'er permission t'come aboard", grinned the Englishman.

"Spike, I swear…."

"Ken, I be but jesting with thee. But no more need's be said, cuffin. I wager I be better off ashore, I aim t'keep well out of it this time", he said in surrendered pose not wanting to recall Kennedy's unfortunate encounter with a certain damsel.

"Something amiss?", asked Faith as she slithered from her cabin, sidled up to the duo and rested her foot on the muzzle of a nine pounder to buckle her brown leather boots which bled from the tightened pantaloons clasping her skin. Her short ruffled shirt, barely buttoned and showing off her taut midriff, wore a tinge of pink as if to serenade her bosom from its sultry perch, all resting 'neath the dark blue tail coat whose golden lanyards were dulled a touch in the uneasy light of the harbour. 'Twas tight around her arms and would ne'er buckle across her bounteous breasts for it be more a uniform suited to a boy of thirteen fresh to the seas.

"Nay Cap'n. Kennedy is to take my place and watch o'er the ship and the nipper"

"Aye, an' I'll trouble ye for the keys to the magazine, Spike", said the First Mate not wanting to acknowledge the knowing grin of Faith.

Spike handed over the iron keys as he slipped into his tunic and rubbed his callused hands with excitement.

"Can I come, Faith?", came the mewl of Satsu as she plumped her skirts skipping over from the fo'c'sle.

"Nay", replied the Captain fiddling with the loose frilled cuffs that spilled from the golden piped hem of her coat

"Why not?"

"Do ye not recall what happened on Tiura Island?", snorted the Captain as her darkened locks flapped in the cool breeze that wafted around them all.

"That not my fault, that big liar man made me make with…."

"I said nay Satsu", said Faith with finality as she slid her flintlocks into her wide belt and secured her father's sword in place, its scabbard gently tapping at her toned thigh.

Without another word the well worn woman, once rescued from the merciless clutch of the Lords of Lob Lob Creek, stormed below decks snatching a bottle of rum on her way. Satsu's small feet, bound since birth, carried her away and though she was used to the pain of walking by now she much preferred to stay on her knees or back.

Faith's irritance with her troublesome concubine wilted as she watched Buffy clamber up the wooden stairs and on to the deck blushing madly as all eyes set upon her.

"My, my B. Don't you look Jack The Biscuit", said Faith staring at her guest who was clad in attire most unusual on her.

"I still cannot see your reasoning behind this, why should I not wear….", Buffy started but was cut off sharply by the Captain.

"If we were to set foot ashore with you in a fancy gown, well we might as well put you to market right now. And I have no mind to fight off picaroons all night lusting over you. Those clothes may be mine but 'tis more fitting considering where we are as manys the dandy pirate that walk these streets", said Faith with eyes sparkling like diamonds cast into smoky charcoal pits.

"And where are we?"

"I cannot pronounce its actual name, but a squire by the name of Dampier once set eyes on it. Seeing the pit of debauchery it is, he likened it to the very mouth of hell, so all us who fly the skulled flag know it as the Hellmouth", Faith said with honour.

Buffy shifted in the cream brocade wiskit which grasped at her waist under which a flowing white shirt did billow with its frothing Mechlin ruffles at her wrists and collar, she had ne'er worn breeches before and the feel of such leggings, in the blackest of satins, befuddled her. Faith could not wrest her gaze from the figure of her guest who, despite being draped in the clothing not of a lady she still radiated a lustful feminine grace.

As Buffy stood awkwardly in the dark stockings which flowed down into the shining brogues she straightened her round brimmed hat, but as she did so she could not help but breath in the soul grasping odours of the Captain which clung to the threads on her body. The bittersweet tang of almond, rum and powder infused the clothes but something else, like the fine scent of lilies, lingered upon them but Buffy shook her head thinking nothing of it as she knew the Captain would ne'er grace herself with such traits of femme society.

"Oh Miss Buffy, you look so….so….", said Willow as she grasped her Mistress' hand in worry as they both looked at the isle they had found port in. 'Twas a shady cove nestled into the side of a great volcano which sent fearsome plumes of fiery smoke into the night sky, despoiling the immense star struck canvas with its gift.

"Well, even though I be not dressed as a lady, one's standards should not have to falter", said Buffy with a small grin glad to have found that the Captain's most formal of clothes fit her well.

"But a l-lady…should not a lady be….."

"Stay your words, Will. The Captain has a point, dressed like this I should not draw such an attention as if I wore a fine gown"

"B-but Miss Buffy"

"Calm yourself, my sweet Willow. Stay here and naught shall happen"

"Si, she'll be safe wi' me", said Kennedy from behind them.

"See Willow, what could possibly happen 'tween you two", said Buffy assuredly as Willow, blushing furiously under the First Mate's predatory smile, fought to wring words from her breath.

"Now c'mon, B. The Hellmouth awaits us!", said Faith as she slapped Buffy on the rump much like one would do to a favoured horse.

The young lady squawked and her eyebrows shot up 'neath the brim of her hat as her hands slipped from her maid's and was ushered ashore before she could forge words of protest or umbrage.

They stepped off the creaking timbers of the great man o' war and onto the jetty, but as they did Buffy could not help but catch the bare of skin flaunted by the Captain, and the slight define of stomach muscles despoiled by the grim spectre of torn flesh. She took a steadying breath unsure as to why her lungs did purge themselves upon seeing such a flash of supple skin adorned with a deep scar, especially from one with such a devilish repute as Faith.

But the dream.

The dream of a beautiful and sweetened meeting of bodies and hearts still lingered within Buffy's mind and she blushed heartily every time she caught a glimpse of Faith's cavernous dimples. She averted her eyes as best she could but as she looked up towards the peaks of town Buffy could only shiver in both wonder and fear.

For 'twas only now that Buffy took in the full miscreancy of the harbour. The snap of flintlock, the roar of drunken pirate, the incredulous whining of gee-gaw traders, all played their part in this cavalcade of mischief and misdeed full of scars, bars and soiled women.

"Men, spend as you like but no pocky-jades on board after sun up, and if ye not be back by then, we sail without ye", yelled Faith as they strode briskly from the dock and into the labyrinth of narrow passages.

"Aye, aye Cap'n", came the chorussed verse as she watched several of her beloved crew scamper off to forgotten nooks and murky alleyways which splayed in all directions,

"Devon, heed my words….sun up", the Captain yelled to the shadows.

"Aye, skipper…sun….", came the reply swiftly quelled by the touch of wanton lady of a bloated nature who lurked in the darkness.

As pistols sang their merry tune and drunkards danced in their sway, as Kings and countries were sworn a rum sodden damnation, as smithy sparks lit the damp night air and cutlass drew with vengeance 'tween the sea cant of mariners, Buffy found herself inching closer to the Captain who, though mightier in deed than she was in stature, strut through the filthy streets as if it were a deposed monarch coming to reclaim her kingdom.

Faith breathed in the fetid air as she watched the nods of respect and toothless smiles come her way, she touched her brim in reply as she wished not to fight this night, especially on ground she considered most hallowed despite it being a cacophonous mingling of noise and squalor, lame horses and deceitful hawkers, rusting drays and shot ridden carriages. The whole port seemed to throb with raucous alcohol fuelled mayhem which made the Captain laugh heartily shaking her head, her tawny twists of hair flailing down from her hat snaring on the small round earrings which swung with a lingering threat to the masculinity of all who dared to cross her.

Buffy squealed and grabbed Faith's arm as the fight of a brace of men flew through a window and into the street. Their faces, already scarred by the pox, bled freely as the men rolled round in shards of glass and steaming manure as their daggers glinted 'neath the liquid scabbard of deep crimson each blade wore. They spewed the most profane language as Faith, laughing deeply, simply circled round them with her guest in quiet tow.

"Fear not B, while yer here with me ye be under my protection and no scully worth their salt would dare trade blows nor blade with me. For this be…..my home", said the Captain with pride as cries of joy and pain echoed all around them.

"T-this be naught but a den of the foulest debauchery and heathen iniquity….t-this truly be the mouth of hell", Buffy said fearfully as they trudged along the streets wallowing in its own depravity, barely noticing that her hand was still firmly grasped in Faith's own, and, to her surprise, seemed not to be quick to snatch her fingers back.

As the young Summers woman felt her refinement and pomposity humble within her breast, she felt lucky to have such a protector, backed by most of her crew who followed up behind them as they crossed down alleyways and streets which no God fearing soul would e'er dare trespass upon. As each tavern swept past, filled to the brim with bliggers and cullins, Faith could not help her reddened lips widen into the smile which blossomed on her face as she felt the warm fingers of Buffy entwine with her own. She cared not that it was for fears sake their hands were clasped, the clammy palm of Buffy wiping its thin film on Faith's cool skin was the finest gift she had received in a long while.

"H-help me", came the drawn voice from a pallid but rounded face clamped in oaken stocks. His cheeks dripped with rotten fruit pelted at him without mercy and his breeches drawn to his knees.

The rest of the crew had already sauntered by without hesitation but Warren took notice of the young man and stopped in his tracks.

"Warren, come along with ye", hurried Mr Gunn as he turned back to his friend. Warren nodded before casting his glare one last time to the young man.

"P-please….help me", begged the man once more as he tried to raise his eyes drained of tears.

"Alas friend, I cannot save ye", Warren said back a little sadly having known such punishments well, whether courtesy of the justices of Herefordshire or the angered mobs of Virginia, he hated such monstrous creations. He clenched his thumbless hands and scurried after Andrew and Mr Gunn who sang boisterous tunes of a crass and devilsome nature.

Turning into a courtyard heaving with Puckish humour and branded pickpockets the cursed menagerie of buccaneers were halted by cries of welcome that echoed around the weathered timbers and crumbling stonework of the neglected buildings.

"Faith!", came the excited call of a feculent woman of the night, with breasts freshly suckled upon and swinging freely, she hauled up her flowing slip and scampered across the crack'd cobbles with another woman in tow.

"Oh Faith, I knew ye'd be back soon", she said as her welted arms flung around the Captain's neck who reluctantly released her hold of Buffy's fingers.

"I always do, Glory. Do I not? And Harmony, like the new teeth", the Captain said awkwardly as she accepted the twin embraces of the two women who peppered her full cheeks with lusted kiss.

"Do ye fancy a lil' touch o' me, Cap'n. I can slip m'beeswax out me cunny for ye", purred Harmony showing her new wooden smile and pressed her hand to the well packed gusset of Faith who hauled away from the women.

"Nay, I…..I am not in the right mind this eve, m'luvverlys", said Faith.

"But ye know I never have enough jewel and my tuppence weeps for a tongue as gifted as yours, I wager ye need to….", said Glory with a pout.

"Ahem", coughed Buffy a little embarrassed and shocked, but she felt a strange pang of jealousy as she watched Faith being manhandled by the two women who the Captain knew intimately and at length.

"Er, ladies this is B…I mean, Miss Summers. B, this is Harmony and Glory, old friends ye might say and…well kind of…"

"P-p-prostitutes!", squealed Buffy as she had never seen ladies of loose morals in the flesh before.

"Yes…..and?", snorted back Glory through half slit eyes.

"I…w-well…I-I…."

"Miss Summers be a touch naïve. Harmony, maybe ye should show her just what ye can do with a wine bottle and a bowl of cherries", Faith smiled.

"Oh Cap'n, ye know that is a two person trick and I need you to be on yer…"

"Not now Harm", replied Faith with a blush regretting her mocking suggestion, "I do believe Mr Gunn has pieces of eight with your names on 'em"

The two women of abandoned character turned round and upon seeing the flash of gold in the palms of the much respected Bo'sun, they tore free of Faith and snaked their hands round his rugged figure teasing his codlings with the promise of unbridled pleasure. Mr Gunn strolled away with the two women who, due to the nature of their trade, would forevermore walk bow legged.

"Enjoy yerself Mr Gunn, an' remember….", called Spike as he watched him walk away with the saucy wenches.

"Aye, back…. afore…. oh god yessss", he gasped out as he felt the roughened tongue of Harmony slide into his mouth.

Buffy stood there, mouth agape at such open wantonness, though these be pirates and she knew of their repute, such actions were as shocking to her as they were unimagined.

"T-those _**women**__…_..you know them well?"

"I er….well….used to…but", blustered out Faith, unsure as to why she was now ashamed of her lascivious past, "Nevermind, c'mon B….here we are…The Black Dog"

They looked up to the see the creaking sign with intricate, yet faded, lettering and a split streaking up through its name. It rocked to and fro on its loosened hinges above the crowd of pirates who were most enthralled of this place and its history.

"A-a tavern? We are to go in a t-tavern?", stammered out Buffy having never set a dainty foot in one before.

"Aye, manys the happy hour I had here. Food, drink….women. Anything ye want can be found here for a price"

"I-I can't go in to…", she squawked as Faith hauled her into the pit of questionable morality.

"'Tis wrong t-t-to…nay I cannot be…"

All the hours of delicate deportment training were stripped from Buffy the second she entered the dank tavern. It's well liquored patrons, fiends from every corner of the seas, roared with defiance and sang heartily as they feasted to their hearts content and draped their ill-gotten gains over the heaving bosoms of the ladies of the night. 'Twas a haven for pirates and a den of easy money and easier virtue 'tween the dented gourds of mead which overflowed and the sacred coves of women which were plunged with throbbing member.

All around Buffy was a press of bodies assailing her senses with snarls and curses of many a forgotten tongue, the swarthy venomous horde of cut throats, many turbaned with coloured kerchiefs, sang and caroused without care nor reluctance as they felt the sluice of many a painted lady.

"B, ye need to relax more. Have a drink, have a game", said Faith with merriment's ease as she nodded towards the circled crowd who bayed at they tear of flesh and spray of feather.

"Y-you bet on cock?", asked Buffy in blanched shock, though not at the bloodied feathers streaking across the timbered floor, but from the notion that a woman should as free to gamble as a man.

"Nay, I gamble only with my life, ne'er my coin. 'Tis a frippery I can live without", shrugged Faith as they made their way to the long stretch of the bar where passed out felons rested their heads in pools of drink and spittle.

"Avast, two penn'orth o' rum", yelled Spike over the din to the thin man who smiled back crookedly through his hare lip before turning to the dozens of bottles that awaited the master of the cork.

"Do you really want to wench with these girls? They are quite ugly", said Oz as he spied what was on offer this eve.

"Oz, there is no such thing as an ugly girl…there is however, such a thing as not enough rum", giggled Amy as she threw down coin and grabbed bottle with one hand and firm bustle with the other.

Faith stared around at the hullabaloo of lust and drunkenness and smiled widely, lips were awash with gin and blood, a virulent mix of scurvy and sodomy filled each parlour room, and the Captain of The Slayer smiled a smile of safety and joy, for in this coming together of life and depravity, she felt the stitches of her heart loosen a little.

"Well bugger me, Faith Berenice Lehane. Ne'er I thought I would see thee again, last I heard ye were in a crow's cage off Van Diemens Land"

Buffy span round to see from whence the voice did come, following Faith's warm smile she looked down to see a woman of minute stature, not but four feet tall, well tattooed and puffing on a much repaired clay pipe.

"What can I say, no bars nor irons can hold me", grinned back the Captain as she leant down and gave a welcoming hug to the dwarfish woman.

"So how be ye, m'darling?"

"I be well enough, how are you Miss Edith?", asked Faith leaning one hand on the engraved handle of her pistol.

"Not dead, so I take that as good fortune. Who's yer lady friend?", the small woman asked as she wiped her hands on her lace trimmed dress which had seen better days.

"This is B. Buffy this is Miss Edith"

"Berenice?", said Buffy lowly, her mind awash with a thousand unknown sensations and questions as she surely felt all this was but a dream of Pan's mischief.

"What? It's gaelic, from the land of my clan. It means 'bringer of victory', can ye think of a more apt name?", shrugged Faith.

"Well…I…er….no", Buffy finished in a shy voice as such a name, though amusing at first, seemed to settle within her mind. As each day a new facet of the dread Captain was revealed, another fog lifted from the legend of the cut throat who seemed more human with each passing moment.

"Pfft, has she no manners?", huffed Miss Edith as she tapped her foot impatiently.

"Oh I…er, pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss", said Buffy with an air of condescension bending down to shake her hand limply.

"B, I would not dare mock her. They call her 'the needle'"

"Why?"

Faith shared a sly wink with Miss Edith and leant into Buffy's ear whispering the roots of the nickname. Buffy's eyebrows shot up and her mouth fell open with ungainly swing.

"N-nay, surely you….is that even possible?", asked Buffy as a jolt of alarm hit her hard.

"Oh believe it, I even watched her do it once. Still shivers me truly when I think of it", said the Captain with benighted eyes.

"Aye", smirked Miss Edith seeing the twist of Buffy's face as her mind tried to picture such a scene.

"So, Dru here?", asked Faith tickled at her guests reaction.

"Aye, she's dealin' with some business upstairs, seems one o' the new girls is not as broken in as she said"

"And how is Dru? Truly?"

"Ye know, it comes and goes but no matter what, she is still kin to thee"

"Aye, of a sorts. But what do….."

Their merry banter was torn asunder by the screams of man who flew from an upper room and tumbled down the wooden stairs, each one casting a thick strike to his noggin.

"You dare set foot in _**my**_ tavern again and ye will lose more than that", came the wild voice from above.

Buffy's mouth unattached once more as she stared, the shine of dull leather boots met her eyes and dragged her gaze up taking in the bare legs, the blackened bodice adorned with embroidered roses and the pink and black feathers dangling from this woman's hair. Buffy's eyes widened as she saw this tall woman, twice her age and thrice her candour, step down the stairs licking spilt blood from a bejewelled dagger before sliding it back into the full cleavage which threatened to spill from her shortened cobalt blue dress. She exuded power and pleasure in equal doses as if she was Empress of this decadent isle.

The man at the foot of the stairs forced himself to his feet as he cradled his bleeding hand, wailing in pain and sorrow at his plight before fleeing into the night.

"Avast there Madam Dru, I see ye still have your way with men", grinned Faith as she looked up with awe at the descending woman who, upon hearing her voice, switched her mood in a blink.

Madam Dru cackled loudly as she saw the dimpled face she had not seen in over a year. Her heels thumped on the stairs as she wrenched the gold ring free of the finger she had just severed and tossed it to the slobbering dogs chained to the wall who chewed upon it with casual freedom.

"Faith!. I missed you so much", said Madam Dru as she reached the floor and pulled the Captain into a rib cracking hug.

Buffy felt sure she saw Faith flush red but she put it down to a mere trick of the blazing lights of the many lanterns behind the throng of capering drunks who were casting inhuman shadows 'pon the shot riddled walls.

"Missed ye too Dru. So how's your girl?", asked Faith nodding upstairs.

"She will be fine in a day or two. It seems lil Miss Rhona is not as well versed in the ways of the back door trader as some, maybe you could have words with her?", said Dru pointedly at which Faith flushed red once more.

"Ahem…I….oh Dru, this is B. Buffy I'd like you to meet Madam Dru"

"Mmmm, pretty girl. What do I owe such a….", Madam Dru offered in a strange voice.

"Hold, I see someone. Heh, now _there_ is a gullet aching for the thrust of steel. Did ye know _**she**_ was here Dru?", said Faith with puzzlement motioning to the woman who leant on a far table away from the crowds.

"Aye, I knew she be here, as long as she is a good girl then you have has no reason to slit her gizzard, unless you feel like it. Either way makes no mind to me", said Dru with a shrug.

"I think I need to have words with her, Dru can you entertain Buffy for a minute?", asked Faith as she nodded to her shipmates who went in and out of the tavern like they were struck with sickness' will, dancing 'tween the harlots of the night and the kegs of full delights.

"Aye"

"So I er….so Dru…", started Buffy nervously as she watched Faith walk away across the straw ridden floor.

"That's _**Madam**_ Dru to ye, only my Faithy gets to call me Dru", hissed the brothel keeper with pointed lips.

"Sorry. But…ye be close? Are you of her blood?"

"Hahahaha, oh yes…well… no. Her father and I go way back, I knew him before he became a gentleman pirate. When first we met he was but a bearded, scabrous midshipman by the name of Just Dick"

"Just Dick?"

"Aye, no matter what, he was just and fair. 'Twas his word and his bond, and he was so pretty. A man like he could wish the rain from the bow….just for me", said Dru in a far off voice.

"But of Faith?"

"Let us say I first met her when she was but ten or so, I watched over her when her father had certain _business_ to attend to which he wanted Faith to have no part in, what it was he never said. But as time passed we became close, and when she blossomed and became of age….well, once her flower was pluck'd in these very rooms…. she became the most radiant of blooms I have e'er known", Dru giggled as she swayed, but not through rum's stead.

Buffy burnt with embarrassment to know such intimacies, but once more that pang of jealousy sounded out but still she knew not why.

She looked around at the jaunty hornpipe being jigged by Xander, he was indeed much prone to dancing at times such as these, as the accordion rang out while the scurrilous sea vermin chanted their ditties of far off lands and homes they left long ago. Though Xander would regret his drinking come sun up for now he was most glad to be romping gay as a lark.

"So Buffy, are thou in mind for a lusty maiden? Mayhaps a pitcher of Flip?", asked Madam Dru. She was not often this accommodating but she instantly saw the look in Faith's eyes when she drew near this young blonde woman whose mind was still fizzing from being left with this strange woman who seemed to hold life and love in conflicting regards.

"F-flip?"

"Aye, 'tis rum flavoured with sugar"

"I…er, nay"

"Well, would thou care for one of my girls to be introduced to _Mrs Willoughby_?"

"Who? I know not who…I…ooohhh", squawked Buffy as her mind swiffed and swayed from confusion to bitter understanding as Madam Dru leant forward, a smile of wry amusement on her face, and cupped a hand to Buffy's nether regions.

"Hello there Mrs Willoughby, so nice to meet ye", giggled Madam Dru.

Buffy squealed and pushed Dru away in shock, but not knowing if she should strike or succumb to such a notion, her heart and mind fought from two opposing camps, each well-armed and unwilling to surrender.

"Do you not like to sniff the pantry? I know my Faithy does", cooed Madam Dru as she leant forward into a grotesque mockery of balletic grace as she nodded towards Faith.

Buffy, not wanting to be alone with this creature of offensive custom any longer, followed the gaze to see Faith approach a woman who stood taller than her but was still dwarfed by Faith's radiant strength and cocksure manner.

Their eyes did clash fiercely, mistrust broiling within them.

"Faith"

"Lilah", came the reply as icy as any midwinter fjord.

"I should take you to greet Ol' Hob right now", snarled the tall blonde woman.

"Now, now, Lilah. Ye should be more dignified in defeat, but you really still be so grizzled over that?", smirked Faith as she watched her old adversary warily.

"You took _**all**_ from me! My surrender, my sword….and my hull", Lilah snapped back with rage in her words as she still felt the shame of having her vessel sunk 'neath her very heels.

"A blade as fine as that deserved a better owner than thee"

Lilah's hand clenched the hilt of her mediocre spadroon in anger.

"Try it Lilah, I beg of thee", said Faith with a face of stone as she took the hilt of her father's sword in her strong fingers until the former Captain relented.

"I have not forgotten", sneered back Lilah with a slight pain ricocheting across her face as the wide scars on her buttocks, courtesy of Faith, tightened as she pulled herself to full height.

"You cross swords with me and what do ye expect? Besides, 'twas not until I sunk The Hart that Angelus came to me with the accord"

"That accord was to be _**mine**_ and ye know it but once ye sank my damn'd ship…. now…now I am but First Mate on The Wolfram. I am ten times the Captain that Angelus could ever be, and I have to take orders from him and that whining jackanapes of his"

"You mean Darla?"

"Aye"

"It must inflame thee that ye have to take orders from her", said Faith enjoying the squirm of her fallen foe.

"Meaning what?"

"She is next in the chain of command after Angelus is she not?"

"For now", mumbled Lilah into her emptying tankard.

"What do ye mean by that?"

"I mean…..nothing. I mean nothing by it", said Lilah with shifting eyes that swum with plotters ink, "But fairly warned ye be, Faith. I shall have my sword back"

"Feel free to try, but next time our blades cross….I will not be so merciful"

"It still behoves me as to why you would attack a fellow pirate"

"You know why", Faith snapped back with hatred fuelling the blaze of her eyes.

"I told ye, it were not my bidding to…."

"Stop a clapper in it, _First Mate_ Morgan", Faith mocked, "Why are you here in port anyway? I thought Angelus knew better than to make harbour here, especially after Madam Dru….."

"Nay, I have been here for near a month on…._business_. I am to meet The Wolfram at first light on the morrow for they be but two leagues on the lee, I have a bisquine awaiting my pleasure in the dock"

"Take word to him, I have his cargo", replied Faith.

"I see, he wants to barter much with you as well", said Lilah as her gaze trailed after Faith's over to the well-dressed Buffy who looked as if she had strolled fresh from the fens and spinneys of the Cotswolds, "Oh, the blonde girl? Be she part of the trade? Now someone like that could fetch much coin in service to all he…."

"Lilah, hold your tongue lest I wrench it from your head", snarled Faith.

"I see", smirked Lilah knowingly, "I shall take my leave now and once aboard my ship I will pass on your message to the _**Captain**_", almost spitting out the title of Angelus.

Faith stared at the retreating form of Lilah but felt such conflict. On one hand she was most amused to see how she had plummeted in importance but that smirk of Lilah worried her for a devious wench like that could ne'er be trusted.

Faith came back over to the bottom of the stairs and looked in confusion at the looks of both Buffy, still blushing and breathless, and the effervescent Madam Dru who seemed to staring at the blonde in a stranger way than usual.

"Are ye both alright?", asked Faith with crumpled brow.

"Aye, we both be fine"

"I see. Dru, I need to speak to ye…in private"

"Aye, come up. I have a bottle or two of Madeira wine that need quaffing", said Dru as she sauntered back up the stairs giving Buffy one last look like the immeasurable oddity she was.

"B, stay here….I will be back soon"

"B-but…", said Buffy as she grabbed at Faith's arm, only to blush and release it when the Captain stared at her.

"B…._Buffy_, I am putting my trust in you to not to take flight. Can I take your word that ye will not cast aside my trust so easily?"

"I…nay, I shall not flee. I would rather not be alone on the streets of this vile and scurrilous place"

"Do you swear such a pledge? Can I take it as solemn vow?",

"I so swear", Buffy said staring into the eyes of the Captain with unyielding honesty.

"Then I have no reason to doubt ye", said Faith with a smile as she felt she had reached a plateau of trust with her guest, where one's word would be sacred and without doubt. After swearing upon her father's grave Buffy had pledged her promise of trust and Faith, finding it a most solemn oath, no longer had any doubt of her word.

"Xander, watch her will ye. I have to talk to Madam Dru", said the Captain nodding to Buffy.

"Aye, if she should run should I tap her noggin like she was muttonbird?", he asked back around a mouthful of pork.

"Nay", said Faith in mild alarm, "Just….watch her is all. She has given me her word she shall stay and her word is good enough for me"

Faith gave a quick wink to Buffy as she followed the flamboyant and unhinged Madam Dru upstairs, dominant as the sky and casting a silhouette of cursed existence 'pon her candlelit walls.

"This Buffy girl, why do you eye her so? Be she of noble blood? A Princess mayhaps", huffed Dru leadingly as she could tell the wandering of Faith's attentions.

"She may be a Princess…but you'll always be Queen to me, Dru", Faith smirked.

"I know sweetheart", smiled Madam Dru as she closed the chamber door and pulled the Captain into her long arms covered in scars and burns. "So who have you chosen for tonight? You could help me break in Vi and Molly, they be still new and I know you like two….or three at a time but we…"

"No Dru…wait", said Faith as she broke the cherished embrace.

"What is it Faithy? Do ye not want my girls anymore", said Dru sadly as her forehead pressed to her favoured friends.

"No, it's not that…it's just"

"Oh god, it's not the clap….again?"

"No, it's nothing like that.…this time. It's just…"

"It be her, is it not? The Princess?"

"What do ye mean?"

"Do not play with _**me**_, Faith. You are in love with her", said Dru as her lucidity waxed and waned like the dripping of the moon.

"I…am _not_", replied the Captain with burning cheek.

"Yes you _are_, but you have not the courage to admit it to yourself, let alone tell her. I thought ye would have learned from all that business in Nassau"

"H-how do ye know of that?"

"You forget who I be, m'darling, I have ears"

"For now"

"Do not even try to threaten me, I know what makes ye tick, what ye like to do with the wax and leather that you…"

"Alright, enough! I need your help though, tell me what do you know of Lieutenant Finn?", Faith burst out diverting Madam Dru's words away from her proclivities.

"Who?"

"Do not play with _**me**_,__Dru. You know everything that happens in these waters, tell me what ye know"

"Well. I have heard tell of this venomous poltroon, but there is greater threat to you Faith"

"From who?"

"You still have the black spot on you and there are whispers afoot of…"

**Meanwhile, aboard The Slayer**

"Er….h-hello", said Willow shyly as, after much panicked deliberation in her cabin, she had braved the lonely night and set foot until she stood by the silent capstan. She knew she was without her Mistress here and, for once, was under her own guidance.

"Mio de…you scared the hell out o' me", said Kennedy sharply as she span round in surprise spilling her meagre vittels in an arc across the deck.

"I-I'm sorry, I s-should go and…", blustered out the maid regretting her bold move.

"NO!...I mean, no it be alright", snapped back the First Mate a little harshly as the gentle lilt of the ship sat 'neath their awkward feet.

"I s-should return to my c-cabin and.."

"No m'lady, please stay", said the First Mate softly as she clasped Willow's arm and held her firm.

"I…alright, I shall stay a while"

"Good…I…er, would ye care for a bite, Willow?", asked Kennedy as she held out her tin plate.

"Y-you remembered my name?"

"Aye…I-I well…er..I did", Kennedy said as her will, usually of a substance like unto iron, faltered.

She bit down her into the salted beef platter to hide her nervousness, when she spoken to the wilted redhead in the past she had been the one to engage conversation, but now she was on the backfoot without having time to rehearse her words of sweetened romance and honest intent.

"Kennedy, t-there is something I need to k-know. When first we met ye said about me being feisty….and you wished to k-k-keep me?"

"Oh…aye"

"What did you mean? Do you really see me as something t-to be traded and…"

"Nay, Willow….I….", she sighed, "I cannot bring myself to lie to thee. I was merely teasing, I wanted to put firm fear into you is all. I meant little by it"

"So y-you want me not?", said Willow with a sadness that surprised even her.

"That's not what I said. I mean….I _**do**_ want you…b-but not _**want**_my way with you…..no, er, I mean not without your will, er Will"

"But such a notion is of a wick'd….."

"Why do you decry it so? Why should love be punish'd as if it a cruelty?"

"I-I was raised in the shadow of the Good Book"

"As was I"

"B-but it says that…", said the soft spoken maid.

"If you take all that is written to be sacred then a bloody life ye shall have"

"What?"

"I mean…oh, this be not the time for the tearing of scripture. But I know that life without love is an unholy and monstrous existence, and though I lust for a lady's dew what should be so wrong with that? Love is love and you can battle it until you die but when yer heart pounds and your mind swims with thoughts of passion, no matter who the subject should be, is it not a sin to deny showing love? To life a life unlived?"

"I…b-but…I….", Willow stammered back not knowing how such a woman of such a wanton existence could reason so well. As much as it pained at Willow's mind, there were cinders of truth which could easily take flame to notions which she had denied….thus far.

"You were not born this way?"

"I was, but it took many a year to realise where my love and lust did lie"

"I-I meant, you were not born 'neath a skull struck flag?"

"I…oh, nay"

"Let us not quibble so, 'tis too fine a night for unpleasantries."

"Agreed"

"So m'lady, would ye care to take me up on my offer?"

"I…I….I…", the maid blurted out in misunderstanding as her face burned red.

"The sword. I said I would show you the cut of the blade", smiled Kennedy as she pulled out her well notched cutlass to catch in the still light of the moon.

"Oh…I…", the maid said nervously looking around.

"Have you never felt the hilt of a sword before?"

"Nay, Miss Buffy hates the very notion of a lady carrying a blade. The sight of one makes her shiver in nervous grasp, I believe her to be too ladylike to ever want to see one in action, she hates the swish of the rapier and forbade me ever to indulge in such brutish behaviour"

"Well, she be not here. Come, I will show you….mayhaps one day it could save thee from a fiend", purred Kennedy as she handed the sword to Willow who took it while trying to fight the smile eaking on to her face. As a hint of treachery did tingle her spine for going behind her Mistress' back like this but somehow, as she felt the weight of steel in her hand, Willow felt a surge of impish desire, that this most forbidden of fruits was hers to enjoy.

Kennedy stood behind her, her full and sun tinged breasts pressed to the back of the maid who held the sword out in front of her, her arm rigid and unflinching.

"Loosen a little m'lady, it should be as liquid smooth when ye swing…there…side to side..", the First mate breathed into her ear, her warm body pressing tightly into Willow, with the maid's hand on the hilt of the sword and covered by Kennedy's own, the other hand of the pirate wrapped round the waist of the redhead who breathed heavy.

Willow was so used to a life of servitude, of waking at cock crow and slipping on her starched white pinafore and mob cap, minding her station and her manners, but now, here on the high seas with an enigmatic beauty breathing hot in her neck and her strong arms around the maids waist, Willow lost herself in the moment and sighed with a duplicitous pleasure. Though she knew that Miss Buffy would be most anguished to learn of her deceit, she reasoned that both she and Buffy needed to be protected in such a cut throat world, and the ends would justify the means.

"Now….bring your weight on your….very good…now raise the blade up..", Kennedy said softly enjoying the quiet moment as Willow shifted her body smoothly and turned in the arms of the buccaneer.

"I…this is so…"

"I know"

"B-but it is…", panted Willow as she felt ensnared by the eyes of Kennedy which held a hint of the voluptuous.

"Aye, 'tis so", said Kennedy with sharpened breath as her fingers ran over the shy maid's.

For near a minute they just stared at each other, their hearts sounding out like the clatter of mallets 'pon gallows, their lips coming closer with the blade all but forgotten as Willow felt her mind yielding to fiendish imaginings.

"I never thought that…I…..oh god", squealed Willow in panic as she tripped over her froth of skirts and fell backwards, but as she fell she reached out and grabbed Kennedy's neckerchief which came off in her hands.

Kennedy's eyes shot open as her hands tried to cover her neck but 'twas too late for Willow, now a heap of flushed cheek and crumpled linens on the deck, had seen the deep red scar which ravaged her skin. The First Mate had seldom removed it in the last four years and never had done so in the company of a lady, she felt a humbling shame at the crimson wake where twisted rope had near snuffed the life from her.

"Oh my word, w-what is….is…is this f-from the gallows? At the hands o-of the Navy?"

"Nay, I….I should explain.", started the latina girl as she reached to the gratings and took a deep swig of rum from the idle bottle, "I was born, though untimely wrenched from the womb, and raised a good Catholic girl on a small island off Costa Rica but…I….I….I fell in love, a girl of such beauty that whenever my eyes fell upon her I felt as if my heart would bleed forevermore. One summers eve while we were cleaning the fish the men had caught that day I fell under her spell and kissed her, 'twas so beautiful a meeting of lips that I weep to this day thinking of it. But she did strike me and ran back to our village, it was bedlam from that night on. The elders of the village said I was struck with devilry, and to stop them all from being cursed with such wick'd ways they took me to the trees by the beach and tried to….to…"

"Oh my goodness", gasped Willow as her slender fingers reached forward and delicately touched the monstrous scar, her eyes wet with tears of compassion.

"I felt the wrench of skin, the burning choke of rope…..but before my world turned to black a blade flew through the air and severed the rope, I know not what happened next but I awoke on board The Ascension, Faith tending my wounds speaking words of such softness and understanding. I owe her a life debt, and in time she took a scared and obedient girl destined for a life of misery and set her free. Free to live and…to love. I can ne'er repay her, but I keep the truth hid 'neath my 'chief."

"I…oh my, I…I am so sorry", said Willow softly, her fear resounding well within her breast that such harsh treatment could come from her own family, that for feeling love, for being herself, she could be subject to such cruelty.

"'Tis no matter"

"B-but..."

"There is nothing ye can do about it m'lady, I think it better you know now…rather than later"

"Later?"

"Yes, later", said Kennedy as she hauled the fallen maid to her feet but refused to let her hands slip from her own.

"B-but later? What later? T-there's going to be a later which is later than now? This later which is later, what is wrong with anything being later than the later which is…" Willow babbled incoherently as she felt her fingers being brushed lightly with Kennedy's thumb.

But without a word, without a single sound, Kennedy silenced the babbling maid as she pressed her lips to Willow's. But the maid, whose revulsion for impropriety was well noted, did not fight back, she not reach for the fallen sword nor scream. Her lips, as pursed and rigid as a clam, began to tingle as she felt a sudden heated rush flow through her, like volcanic sprites unleashed their prickles on her innards.

As the kiss ceased Willow's eyes slowly opened, her breath jagged and battlesome as she took one look at the sweetly smiling First Mate….and promptly fainted into her arms.

Kennedy simply smiled as she brushed the stray hair from the maid's face and scooped her into her arms and carried her to her chamber below decks.

**.**

…**..**

**.**

Buffy stared around at the heaving throng of drunkards and harlots, quaffing from tankard and lips alike, 'twas a steaming mass of all that she felt was debauched in this world. She was surrounded by the crew of The Slayer who came and went between bar and backroom, quieting away with wench and wine before returning with less gold and throbbing codpiece but somehow, despite her stern schooling, she felt a growing ease she could not identify.

"And so I says to he, "Sodomy Sir? 'Tis a man's game", and then 'e frogmarches me out o' there", guffawed Spike as his friends in arms joined in the chorale of mirth.

"Er…Mr Harris"

"Xander, m'dear. Just you calls me Xander", slurred the one eyed pirate who nudged Andrew in encouragement.

"Xander", continued Buffy, "I-I mean to ask, the scar on the stomach of Faith? What be its origin?"

"Ah, there's no scar deeper than that made with yer own blade, but I warn ye not to raise such an issue around the Cap'n for that…", said Xander sadly as he sighed with mourner's breath,"….'twere a dark day for all of us"

Buffy looked on in surprise as Spike and Anya made a disjointed sign of the cross over themselves, she was most intrigued to see such piety, or was it remorse, severing the gaiety of this revelling throng. Sensing a deeper burden than that of scars Buffy felt an unease drift across the table, a distinct air of secrets burned harshly to their very beings, she took the rudder of language and sailed back into other realms as yet uncharted by their converse.

"Oh. But what about Madam Dru? Can you tell me of her as she seems most strange of character"

"Well, ye see 'tis said she be of noble birth or somethin', a lady to be I hear", replied Xander, with rum loosening his tongue and a smile return, "But when she reached of age she fell in love with a common scallywag, her father was outraged and declared her sick o' the mind and sent her to an asylum"

"R-really? Did she find help there?"

"Nay, clearly you have ne'er set foot in one for they are brutal and uncaring places and for one as fragile as her, 'tis said that when one o' the guards laid his boot to her…well, her belly was plump with child"

"Good gad", said Buffy shocked.

"Aye, 'tis said that when she lost 'er lil one her mind just crack'd. I know not how she ended up on the seas, 'tis said she was sprung by Cap'n Wilkins and they loosed to the ocean", interrupted Spike.

"Then why be she here? In a place such as this?"

"I know not the full story, s'not like she tells 'er tale to all, but Faith knows the truth. Just one thing, Miss", he smirked as he swished his flagon around, another victim to grog's debilitating spell, "If ye cross Madam Dru, then mark where ye wish to be buried"

"I do not understand"

"Faith may be the finest swordsman in these waters…..but Madam Dru….woah. She is the most vicious killing machine ever to grace God's green earth, when that rage takes 'er she will slaughter all who stand in her way. I once saw her take a man's face off….with her teeth."

"I…I..wha….", said Buffy in certain dread.

"Aye, she is more brutal than you could e'er imagine, but when she is in control o' her sense she is the sweetest woman you could e'er meet. Her mind doth flicker 'tween states of anger and love, only Faith seems to be able to control 'er, they have a special bond methinks. But Madam Dru sails no more, for why I cannot say but she is a lady of near myth that if e'er Kingsmen caught her they would hang 'er out of hand as a desperado too notorious t'need trial"

"B-but how come I have not heard of her?", asked Buffy.

"Heard of 'er? Have you not heard tell of The Acathla?"

"T-The Acathla? That was her who…"

"Aye, the only Captain that Blackbeard himself feared to face was Madam Dru, especially after Tahiti. Now _**that**_ was a thing of such….there be no words for it"

"I thought The Acathla was but myth, a fairy tale told to children to scare them from going to sea", said Buffy not knowing to believe if such atrocities were by the hand of a woman.

"It be best to think of it like that, she has not sailed in many years now but her harbour is always open to the nomads of the tides"

"And what of these girls? These women of no morals who ply their trade so brazenly, are they all daughters of the blackened flag?", said Buffy, veiling herself behind the visage of loathing, seeing Harmony slide her fingers down the tented breeches of Oz whose hands kneaded her petite mounds with expert skills.

"Most o' em were condemned back in Blighty. Damn, my tankard runs dry. Where be that sourbreezin' rumkin?", cursed Spike with beetling brow.

"Who?", asked Jesse.

"Marcie"

"She be over there"

"Where? I do not see her. Mayhaps she be….oh wait, there she be", he said seeing the dark haired women skulking to one side tapping her fingers on an empty keg, her eyes furtive and struck with delirium.

"Avast ye bliggers", said Glory as she forced her sweltering breasts back into her dress and took a seat next to Buffy paying little heed to the way the young Summers women sat with ramrod straight back and no pitcher in her small hands.

"Now Glory here, she always likes t'talk about 'erself", said Spike nodding to the haggard looking wench.

"Really?", enthused Buffy feeling the cunning mix of thrall and fear swathe her very skin, but as she felt the close knit company of the crew her disdain began to temper. The easy going nature of the pirates had started to erode her fervent disgust and even a smile began to tug at her lips as Xander's dancing grew more comical and void of co-ordination. For within these

"Ye want to hear my tale, it'll cost ye a tanner", smiled Glory as she held out her palm which still glistened with love broth.

"I...oh...", said Buffy as being a lady of society she carried no coin nor values save her chastity and her manners. Searching the pockets of Faith's wiskit she found naught but spilled snuff and a scrap of paper which, in the dim light, she could not read.

"Allow me, Miss", said Jesse as he tossed a coin to The Slayer's guest who smiled back in thanks.

"Tis not a tale ye have not heard before m'dear", she said to the young man as he propped his leg on the table, the crudely crafted wooden peg landing with a solid thud.

"I know, Dr Oz tells us yer stories from time t'time. He says he would write a book called Tales O'The Black Dog, about all o' ye"

"That sounds a treat to read, but for now ye will have to hear my version", said Glory slightly giddy that her sorrowed tale would be source of wonderment for those bless'd enough to know the written word.

"Yes, I would be most intrigued to know", said Buffy as she fluffed at the gay plumes of her tricorn purloined from some Dutch grandee.

"Well ye know how a few years past those bloody Dago's turned tail"

"You mean the Treaty Of Utrecht? When the Spanish ceased hostilities and…", butted in Buffy to Glory's consternation.

"I see ye be well schooled Miss, but this be my tale"

"Sorry"

"Anyways, when the army disbanded London was awash with cripples begging for ha'pennies and tens o' thousands o' men needing work, so 'twere decided to give 'em the work of the women. Milkmaids, maidservants, shopgirls were all cast out on t'the streets so we had a choice. Either seek asylum with Ol' Father Thames or starve in wretched hovels, but those of us with some codlings found our ways to survive", said Glory as she drank from Anya's unattended flagon.

"I will be back in a snoot", murmured Jesse as he yanked his wooden peg from the busy table and hobbled from The Black Dog with a damnable thump of wood following each pace. He still cursed the day he met the rancorous beast that snapped his limb, teeth of the gliding fish tore his flesh before he could even draw dagger to fend off the shark.

"As I was saying", snorted back Glory not wanting to share her attentions, "I was often found near the cooing seats in St James' Park, there I could find my wage for if a man were drink-fuddled I could press into him and ask what I could give 'im, either I picked his pocket or parted my thighs, 'twas the only way to get a little coin in the city of the forgotten and the damn'd. Often I would thieve from the linen drapers of Holborn, 'twas a masterful plan I had down. First to tumble the muzlins t'the floor, then divert the shopkeep by sending him off for scissors or measurin' tape and when he was gone I would stuff the cloth up my skirts. Trick was to leave without hurry or ungainly lumps, 'twas an art an' no mistake. Once out the shop I could disappear into the sea of bonnets and grey cotton gowns that strolled down the streets 'tween the Tower and Shadwell. I had a room down Goldsmith Alley…"

"I know of it", squeaked Buffy, "'Tis a tiny street near Gutter Lane and Woods Street, off Cheapside"

"And what, pray tell, was a lady like you doin' in such a neck o' the woods", asked Glory raising an eyebrow as only the poor and downtrodden would ever frequent such an area, a district where assault on the king's highway was more common than the commonest of wench.

"I..er…I once got lost", lied Buffy with a blush as not even Willow knew she had often been to such places for reasons she could ne'er reveal. But she could well recall the stench of chandler's wax, steam from the mangles and the drunks decorating the steps and gantries devoid of hope or life.

"I see. So one night I was pressed to a proper gent and lifted his watch but the bugger caught me, but I was too drunk to parlay so I goes into the nearest pawners and trades it for a shillin' or two. But soon as I came out he called a bleedin' busnapper on me and I was hauled off t'the Wood Street Compter. A night in irons and I was up before the beak, I tried to plead being a little lacking in mind but as I was known as a Mistress Of The Four Guineas he sentenced me t'seven years in Parts Beyond The Sea"

"Oh", said Buffy unsure of how to feel about this woman whose head was scratched raw from lice, for Glory was not a wench of hysterical fancies but a woman wronged by the levies of Parliament and was forced to thieve and barter with her parts which decency forbids to name. But the law was the law and by flaunting such decrees this droopy eyed strumpet had, in essence, become an enemy of His majesty.

"I didn't have the time to use my wiles on the turnkeys o' Newgate and afore I knew it I was shackled on a ship heading for the colonies. But lucky for me ol' Faith turns up with grape and fury taking the ship within minutes", smiled Glory.

"Aye, 'tis true", interrupted Amy taking a heavy gulp of rum to steady her thundering heart and sweated brow, "We took all the ladies and those who wished to be freed in the New World were, but some of them came here. For here they are safe from anyone, Kingsmen, pirate or padre, none would set foot on this port without Dru's say so. Though she may be keeper of The Black Dog, she controls the whole Hellmouth"

"My partner at the time was nappered a month afore me, she got caught forgin' coin o' the realm", said Glory now winking at all for an offer of grog, Andrew slid his drink to her which she necked in a stroke.

"B-but that be high t-treason", gushed out Buffy as she pushed away a rum ridden Xander who was now leaning on her for steadiness as Anya had gone for a pipe.

"Aye, it be. A man found guilty o' high treason faces the noose, but a woman found guilty o' the same crime is condemned to perish in flames at the stake. I hope such barbarism does not find its way t'the New World", finished the woman with deep sadness smothering her voice.

But as much as it pained Buffy to admit, she knew Glory was right for she could still recall the stench of burning flesh that carried itself along the narrow streets of Tilgate.

"So now my life be my own once more, I choose to be 'ere amongst friends where I can make ten times what I used to without the buzz fingering my collar", said Glory sharing a wink with a heavy breathing and most dishevelled Harmony who was followed by a wide grinning Mr Gunn, his shining pate anointed with beaded sweat, whose pockets were lighter and his manhood raw.

"But your life and liberty are now forfeit", said Buffy steering back into converse.

"In the world which shunned me, maybe. But here I am a favourite of Madam Dru and who in their right mind would cross her"

"B-but your….work….you go with both men a-a-and..?"

"Women?", Glory finished as Buffy nodded, her face flushing vibrantly, "Indeed, I may take a passing fancy to some but my life and love are mine and mine alone. I am not in the habit of condemning those who seek love, to spend their coin being with another woman. It means nothing to me, except a warm bed, a full belly and freedom. If I choose to leave I can leave, but 'tis my choice", shrugged Glory with finality as she saw Marcie, the quiet but trusted deckhand of The Slayer catching her eye with the glint of jewel.

"If ye want to spend a little coin on me, I will be upstairs, second room on the left"

"Wh-what? No, nononono, I ….I do not…am not…", flustered Buffy as her blush refused to yield.

"If ye should change your mind I will show you why I am known as Glory, for I have a….", Glory started to whisper into a naive ear as Buffy coughed and wheezed in mortal recoil for ne'er had she heard such words uttered let alone thought such practices were even physically possible. She watched Glory cross the room with a swish of her bustle before firing back a sly wink to the young guest of The Slayer.

"…", Buffy's mouth opened and closed and neither intelligible sound nor primal grunt were freed, she grabbed the drink from Devon who had only just arrived in The Black Dog.

"Hoi", he snapped but seeing the wincing mewl on the face of Buffy as the grog hit her gullet his disfavour switched to amusement.

"Forsooth, w-what manner o-o-of nog is this?", she gasped as she rubbed her tongue on the fluffing lace of her cuff, her rigid ladylike manner forgotten for the moment as she stared on at Glory who stopped before the wide eyed gaze of Marcie.

"Hello there", purred the corseted lady of a wondrous yet ill repute.

"H-h-hello", stammered back Marcie with timidity swaddling her very soul.

Instead of more redundant trivialities Glory simply pressed her mouth to the flibbering lips of the young deckhand who swooned in the toxic joy of the kiss. Her moistened tongue danced along Marcie's lips, she opened up and they pushed their tongues into a dance of symbiosis, breasts heaved with passion and pushed together as they could hear the faint call of her bed beckon them like siren's song.

"You are a pretty thing, let me see you more"

Marcie reached up and pulled her faint brimmed hat from her head letting her lank hair flop forward in front of her eyes, Glory ran her fingers across Marcie's cheek and went to hook the sagging locks behind her ear but the young woman turned her head and blushed. The mangled remnants of her left ear, usually hidden by matted hair, filled Marcie with shame as it was the eternal reminder of falling afoul of Lady Tsuchiya in Marrakesh.

"Do not worry, honey. I have seen much worse, so would you like to come with me?", asked the harlot, proud of her station and not fazed by the lump of scissored flesh which hung from Marcie's head.

"A-a-a-ye", replied Marcie who fiddled awkwardly with the silvered star of David which hung loosely around her neck.

Glory took the jewel from Marcie's hand and lead her up the stairs amidst a volley of cheers and laughs from her crewmates, she could not help but smile back 'neath her furious blush as, with each rum addled step, she came nearer to the bounty she had lusted for since she could remember. Though she was a quiet and barely noticed member of The Slayer's carousing few, Marcie knew that no other place in this rotten and decaying world she could ever call home.

As Marcie stumbled along after Glory her eyes flitted to one side to an open doorway where she saw her Captain smile warmly seeing her crewmate finally taking the step she had been fearful to take for so long. Faith shook her head a little seeing the young woman being pulled into the adjoining room where her dank burrow would feel the thrill of worship.

"Ye are so special to me Faith, as was your father. I promised him I would look out for ye, and I always will", said Dru pulling Faith back into conversation.

"I know Dru, I…I miss him so damn much", replied the Captain as her sadness bounded back.

"I will always be there when ye need me sweetheart, my love for thee shall be eternal as the tides."

"I know,"

"But be wary, this Buffy girl….she reeks of favourites and deceit"

"Well, you're wrong", said Faith harshly as the expression of her beloved friend contorted swiftly to that resembling a most pitiful wretch before God's gates.

"I….I'm wrong? Daddy always said I was wrong, that's why he cast me aside, Daddy's still mad at me", said the older woman in a timid voice as she backed away.

"Dru, listen to me, I meant not what I said, you be not wrong", soothed Faith as she watched Madam Dru shuffle up her bed and wrap herself in the be-skulled flag she once sailed under.

"But I am broke in the head, Daddy told me so. He said he would find another who could be his pride, one who was not borned wrong…I can ne'er go back home. Death walks with me always and the blood, their damn'd blood will forever stain these hands", said the keeper of the keys with the sudden fragility of a shy child.

"Listen to me….Dru? Just hear me, no one can e'er replace you, your father was a fool not to love for who you are"

"But I am of evil's whim", she replied in but a whisper.

"No, you are not. You have a heart I could only wish to have, and without ye my neck would have been stretched many moons ago. You are strong and you love, your _**are**_love in its most cherished form, one that is not bound by the laws of man but by the laws of your own heart", stressed Faith as she ran a tender hand over the bony shoulders of Madam Dru.

"I...I…I am not wick'd in my ways?"

"Nay….you are not of wick'd ways. You are all I have and I will bleed my last drop afore I let another treat ye like the way your father treated you"

"Thankyou my sweet Faith", said Madam Dru as she threw the flag she used to slumber 'neath to one side and within the flash of powder her mind corrected.

"Be you…I can see you are", smiled Faith seeing the brightening of her hostess' face. It pained the Captain to see how such a strong woman could be misused so, that the cruelty of her own father and the standards he demanded could wound Dru so. It certainly explained her bloodlust that was sealed within prose and song of the time, but she did fear for the sudden swerves of mood and temper that wrested Madam Dru for her soul. Faith just wished that her beloved could find the solace she longed for but, knowing the whole woeful tale, the Captain knew that Dru's mind would always suffer.

"I just want ye to be happy my Faith, if you have the chance then go for it", said Madam Dru as she pranced around her dimly lit chamber, buoyed by the love of the young Captain as well as her twisted mind once more cavorting within itself, a coil of emotions that could strike with both venom and compassion within the strike of flint to powder.

"I do not understand ye, Dru"

"You do, you just wish it were not so. That life before ye met the Princess was so simple was it not? But now, yer heart wants for things you are unwilling to give, I know ye Faithy. I know ye more than I know myself"

"That be true"

"But does she share such inklings?", asked Madam Dru as she pressed an ear to the wall smiling as she heard the muffled cries of rapture from the young maidens parching throat.

"She has mellowed these past days but I think…she will always see me as a cut throat and nothing more"

"Since when has Captain Lehane ever been afraid of anything? I can see where your heart now lies".

"Who said I was afraid?"

"Why else would ye be still be here with me when the girl you lust after sits downstairs in a tavern full of drunkards and scoundrels? But still be wary, she has lies on her tongue…lies….lies…", said the Queen of the Hellmouth as her senses cleaved once more. Her arms began to shake and her eyes filled with the cruel slickened residue of irrational thought.

"Dru, calm yourself", said Faith as she shook her by the shoulders before pulling Madam Dru into a comforting embrace.

"Faith, come the day you need me, when all hope is lost and you pray for that which is not yours, on that day I will be there. Have no doubt of that", Madam Dru whispered after a minute of soothing silence,

"But if ye leave the safety of the Hellmouth…..."

"I know, there is a gallows man most anxious to get his hands on Madam Dru, especially after the lil' misunderstanding in Tahiti, but I will risk my neck for ye….always."

"Thankyou my beloved, you will always have a place in my heart as you did in my father's", said Faith kissing Dru on the rouged cheek.

"I love you, Captain Faith Berenice Lehane"

"I love you too, Drusilla Mariette Travers", replied the sea vixen as she bounded out the door leaving Dru alone in her chamber and headed back into the hive of pirates that buzzed with fermented liquors and wayward pleasures.

"Let ush lift a pot to Cap'n Lehane and a pox on falshe friends", roared Xander as he snapped to his feet holding onto Anya for dear life.

"Aarrr, huzzah to the Cap'n!", came the roar from the rest of the crew scattered all over The Black Dog and even into the streets.

"Evenin' lil lady", came the curl of a dunpate whose eye had been snared by the quiet beauty of Buffy.

He sat down by her and though she pushed away his hands he still pressed into her, she looked to Xander for help recalling the Cap'ns request of his protection but he had headed back to the flowing keg leaving her alone as the crew now floundered all over the tavern.

"P-please good Sir, I wish not to be…", Buffy said scared as his drooling lips came closer, he grabbed her round the waist and hauled her to him. The man let spring his tongue, reptillious in nature and immoral of conduct.

"Aye ye do, come 'ere me buxom beauty", he leered with power.

"Oi, watch it", snapped Spike as he stumbled out the door for his bladder was full and his eyes glassed.

"Sorry", said Jesse recoiling from bumping into his shipmate at an urgent pelt. "Spike, where be the Cap'n? I have seen…"

"Sheen what?", he slurred back with unsteady tongue.

"No matter"

Spike merely muttered to himself as he ducked down a side alley to let his juices flow down the cobbles but as he fumbled with his pantaloons he felt himself pushed roughly back against the wall already dripping with the urine of a dozen others.

"Oi, y'blagger! What d'yer think yer….", he yelled but before he could befoul the air anymore his mouth was sealed by lustrous lips.

The charred skin pressed into his as he felt a soft tongue slide into his mouth, it was so soft and warm that in his drunken state Spike just let the pleasure ride high as he felt small and delicate hands wash over his manly chest.

The kiss pulled away and his sudden shock changed to a knowing smirk, "I though it might be ye"

"So I….I just….I love you Spike, I always have", came the drunken words

"I….oh t' blazes with all", said the Englishman, shrugging off his doubts as he was most intoxicated. As he grabbed the owner of the sweetest lips he had e'eer tasted and pulled them both into a side alley their drunken hands fumbled and fondled, fingertips gliding across mottled skin as they breathed a heady lust.

"Tell …no…one", said Spike around a tongue that writhed like unto serpents guild.

"Aye"

They thought not of returning to The Black Dog, they were swimming in the heady lust that was swallowing them whole and had notion of the discord unfolding in their ranks.

Jesse limped back across the tavern with a quiet scowl as he eyed one of his crewmates, he had seen something in the night air but three alleys away and hurried back to The Black Dog with treachery's words on his lips. Upon seeing Faith leaving Madam Dru's sacred chamber he fought his way across the heaving mass to have words of a worrying nature.

"Cap'n, I must speak with ye"

"Not now Jesse"

"But Cap'n", he pressed but Faith barged past him with an insistence over to Buffy.

"I said stow it, Jesse…Moloch! Get yer damn hands off her afore I grand yer nugget!", roared the Captain pushing the well-known picklock away from the young lady who, without doubt, had spent a life more sheltered than the shadiest of coves.

"And who do ye think….", Moloch said as he turned and saw who was addressing him, "Oh, it be you Faith"

"Aye it be, and if you do not leave my friend alone….ye will be limping out of here so much less of a man", she snapped tapping her be-ringed fingers loudly against the hilt of her sword.

"I was….I…just….", he said as he backed away quickly.

"Aye, ye better", she sneered as he backed off, "Be ye alright, B?"

"I…indeed,…thankyou", Buffy said in a small voice, though she was glad to be rid of such a malodourous brute she wished not to be indebted to Faith. But only having read of such chivalry in adventure novels Buffy felt a strange warmth flow from deep within.

"Yer welcome, B", said Faith with the kindest of smiles.

"I…I mean, you did not have to…but still…I-I'm glad you…"

"Tis alright B", replied the Captain gently stroking Buffy's arms.

The easy going nature of the pirates, the gallantry of Faith, all had started to erode her fervent disgust and even a smile began to tug at her lips as Xander's dancing grew more comical and void of co-ordination. For within these merry moments, despite her situation, something in her began to stir. A notion she had not felt in the longest of times, the notion….of freedom.

"Mis amis, let us lift a pot to Capitan Rayne, ze finest pirate in zees waters", called the elegant French dandy and dangerous First Mate, Mr Trick.

"Nay, Cap'n Lehane be the terror of the Caribbean, she can outfight and outsail ye anytime. The Slayer is the fastest ship in these waters and best Captained!", snapped back Oz as he threw his tankard of grog into the air like the words were sacrilege to all her held dear.

"Ze Slayer? Pah, c'est merde!"

"Oi, none o' that Froggy lingo mate", sneered Devon pushing his latest strumpet of choice away before she had even set puckered lips to his codlings.

"Nay, I says we can take any hull we chooses", roared another boasting of the prowess of the fleet but untested sloop.

"Bugger off ye mamsey-nosed plank, none can touch The Slayer", yelled Warren defiantly and proud of the flag 'neath which he lived.

"Pas de tout, we who sail with Les Boites Enchantement could take Ze Slayer and all of vous with ease et….", taunted Mr Trick but before he could finish his words Anya punched him square in the well defined jaw that bore a thin strip of beard and curled moustache.

And lo, like a fuse to a powder keg that one blow was all it took for The Black Dog to erupt into a frenzy of fists and curses. Glasses smashed in fury and the bludgeoning of flintlock 'pon skull filled the air, blood and teeth spat across as both crews, and all present with no allegiance to any captain, were drawn into the brawl.

The harlots of the house who were still sluicing their tuppences over pitchers of boiling water ready to scour their intimacies with vinegar, both common practices to avoid being full with child, were soon wrapped up the melee.

Xander slammed his fists like a madmen into any who came near him, Mr Gunn recovered from being crashed through a wooden table, picking up a carved table leg and swung it wildly as Buffy was pushed over, she crawled under a long pew and flinched at the chaos erupting around her. The Bo'sun would soon silence any words of disrespect with the shaft of oak clubbing into mouth and eye alike as he swung it wildly at anyone who helmed any ship but his own.

"Ye bitch!", screamed Harmony as she leapt on the back of Mr Trick after he kicked Warren squarely in the face, he span round as she clawed at his eyes manically.

Faith fell back as felt a tankard dent in her head, as she lay she felt punches reign down like God's judgement before she rolled over and drew her pistol firing point blank into a man's chest, his body flinging back as she fought for her life. Despite the trail of blood running down her face she still smiled widely as she slammed a chair onto a rivals back, the crack of bone filling her heart with a menace.

Battle lines were drawn in blood as tables were crashed through, chairs and bottles span through the smoky air and Buffy shrieked in fear and shrinked back in her hiding space as splinters and shards rained down all around her. She looked out desperately for Faith hoping that her chivalry was not made dormant by the fracas she so hungered for.

A long blade flew through the air and landed in front of Buffy, an exquisitely fashioned rapier which was sheened with crimson, the life blood of a buccaneer sliding under its flash of steel.

Buffy's eyes widened owlishly as they clamped on the bloodied shaft of forged steel and her lips trembled as her mind cast back to that terrible day in London she wished ne'er to recall again when she swore 'gainst repeating her terrible mistake.

Her desperate sobs of apology.

The growing pool of blood on the floor of the study in the house of Mr Merrick.

And the rapier in her trembling hands.

From that day forth she had prayed and hoped that drowning herself in deportment and fine needlepoint could wrest such dread memories from her but this glistening blade flushed all those merits away as she recalled with startling vividity the horror of that day these two years past.

.

"No...no….no...NO!", Buffy screamed as her tears ran freely and her hands shook without control. Her breath became as ash, clogging her words of terror, fragile eyes that sparkled with an innocence lost glassed over with sorrow's wash.

She forced her way out from 'neath the upturned pew and stood on wobbling legs before her wide eyes spilled their tears as she fled from the tavern, pushing past brawling prostitutes and bruised privateers.

"Buffy!", yelled Faith in worry before seeing the young lady turn on her and run, a sudden and maddening rage swept through the Captain as she slammed her already bleeding knuckles into the ribs of Mr Trick as she fought her way across the tavern.

As Faith watched Buffy's flight, conceived through a dread panic, her heart did wrench at its soliloquy of damnation, an unheard cry that burned her very soul. Her hope, her want, her desire, all were pitched into a sulphurous cavern where rage swirled 'til it blackened her eyes and filled her veins with an incensed vengeance. She ran after Buffy swinging the stock of her flintlock without care nor mercy at any who stood in her way leaving a bloody wake of cracked bone as her fury unleashed.

But with her pistol empty and her sword yet to be drawn Faith was halted as she watched a buccaneer block her path pointing his flintlock directly at her, she held her breath as the crack of shot thunder'd out but as she flinched Faith felt no tear of flesh.

She looked and saw this rum cove laying still on the floor, what remained of his face clinging on to the shattered bone and splintered teeth laying in a hideous scatter. Faith span round to see Madam Dru hand a smoking blunderbuss to Miss Edith for reloading as she pulled her trusted dagger from her cleavage and readied herself to leap into the embittered fray.

Faith shot her an appreciative nod which Madam Dru returned with a smile formed through bloodlust as she leapt from the upper balcony down into the bleeding throng of bodies.

The copper framed windows smashed into a glittering burst of glass as the fight spilled forth into the street as Faith ran out after Buffy, her eyes darting around madly searching for the blonde woman as the Captain felt her rage spin out of control. Though she had felt the scurl of battle fill her veins the flight of her guest had felt like a knife to the heart, Buffy's vow broken and her solemn words of trust turned to dust.

Buffy ran through the cobbled streets, the laughter of the drunkards only seemed to mock her further, her tears fell like burning embers as she rushed away from the fight, away from that bloody rapier which held all her guilt and hurt. Nothing was important to her, just her escape… but memories cannot be outrun.

"Woah there, Missy", came the woman's chuckle as she caught Buffy round the midriff.

"Get off me", she squealed as Lilah roughly shook her.

"Nay"

"Let me go"

"I think not, now shut that mouth of yours or should I…."

"Lilah!", came the angered roar from behind her stopping the shamed former Captain before the threat could reveal itself.

"Oh Faithy, look what I caught.", mocked Lilah as she saw the rage and hurt meld within the eyes of the Captain. "See what you get for trusting a woman of high status"

Faith just grabbed Buffy by the arm and hauled her away from a laughing Lilah.

"What in devilry are you doing, Buffy? Why did you run? Why?", Faith yelled, her fingers wrenching at her captives upper arm roughening the flesh 'neath the silken coat.

"I…I….",

"Once more you have taken my pride and cast it aside as if it were naught, you played me for a fool and made me lose face not just in front of my crew but in front of other jackals of the sea. You gave me your word you would stay in The Black Dog, your _**solemn**_ word! Obviously such a vow means nothing to you"

"I…I..", Buffy sobbed as her senses fought to realign.

"Do not even try to explain", roared Faith as she dragged Buffy along with a vice grip on her arm fighting to keep her voice steady and her eyes dry, "I put my trust in thee and you spat it back in my face, I will not lose my crew because of your lies, I believed you when you swore your innocence…ye just proved I cannot trust a single word you say, you…..you _**did**_ try and shoot me in the back, did you not?"

"Nay…I m-made such a promise on….", Buffy whimpered cowering under Faith's rage.

"Aye, your father's grave….but it seems to mean little to ye. I shall not lose the respect of my men because of your treachery, I will hear no more of your lies and not allow ye to infect my crew with them", snarled the Captain as she blinked away angered tears.

"How d-dare you think that I-I would take such a vow lightly"

"Then why did you run?",

"I…I..but I cannot…if I was to…"

"Oh, cease your bleating", Faith snapped as her hurt painted her heart to a blacker hue than even her legend spoke of, "You will ne'er betray or sully me with your lies again Cor….I mean…."

"B-but ye do…"

"One more word from you _**Miss**_ Summers and I will have no qualms in selling you…..incomplete", Faith roared as she pulled her dagger to eye level before turning away.

The Captain's eyes sought out and ensnared the shadowy figure leaning against the prow of the broadly beamed bisquine which knocked gently against the wooden timbers of the jetty, 'twas lugger-rigged and ready to sail.

"Lilah, tell Angelus we meet on the morrow at noon….at the Isle of J'he….for there he can claim his property", sneered Faith as she refused to meet the gaze of Buffy as, despite her infuriated words, she feared her own heart's betrayal and the tears she fought to keep unshed.

_**Meanwhile, in a darkened alley near The Black Dog**_

Jesse's eyes flittered slowly as he slumped to the blood strewn cobbles, his life ebbing away 'til he knew no more as oblivion claimed another wretch before his time.

"I'm sorry Jesse, but ye knew too much", whispered his crewmate who cleaned off the knife before laying the cooling body to rest in a corner much defacedby the soiling of man.

"Be you sure he witnessed us?", asked a tall man whose Royal Naval uniform hid 'neath a flowing hessian cloak.

"Dead men tell no tales, Sir", replied the battered pirate who received the King's gold in hand and turned back to the Officer.

"Remember, a king's pardon and a queens ransom for delivering her head"

"Aye, fear not. Captain Lehane will swing within a week", said the turncoat who pocketed the shining coins and hurried away back to the ship.

Back to The Slayer where their treachery would be silent and brooding 'til the day came.

A day that would come soon.

Very soon.


	7. Chapter 7

_(Mucho gracias to all for the whole flood of reads and reviews (I am honestly touched) but also a kiss, a lick, a spank and a thank to the usual suspects but now adding the following to my ever growing list:- MickTrex, gg815, Emilyport, dakadakara, liquid dust, Bob, petit prince 05, Barbarossa, halen888, BuffynFaithFan, tobaccoandpeppermint, and the fabulously monickered Lezzinbout. I really do appreciate it all. And not forgetting Fire Tiger Lily for inspiring where this whole fic twists, merci)_

.

...

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"Land ho!", bellowed Anya from the creaking sway of the crows nest as she squinted under the suns fiery blessing.

"Aye, I hear ye!", yelled back Faith who had been awake all night, a stalking predator on the deck of her ship, a coiling wrenching figure who felt the roast of anguish feed her fears. Fears she would ne'er admit to but Buffy's betrayal wounded Faith more than any shot in the spine could have. As she stared out off the starboard beam the buccaneer, coved in maudlin wish, she almost wished the flintlock _**had**_ been loaded that night.

"Brace the tack an' heave to", she shouted as the thin sliver of yellow that gilded the islands rim came into view, her brass rimmed eyeglass captured the empty of the beach and she sighed for she had thought they would not reach the Isle Of J'he so soon. Her rage, though lessened, still ached for release and she stomped up and down the wooden decks 'neath the coil and flap of the crimson sails.

The silence of the ship, save for the whistle of rig caught in the steady breeze, was sliced through by the soft lilting voice of Lorne, resplendent in his twill beaver hat, as his Germanic songs sailed sweetly across the decks, a soothing sound to dull the throb of mind of those that suffered from bottle and battle alike. As Lorne's splinter fused hands worked a mort he smirked at the toss of the waves which uneased many of the crew who spent too much time throwing their spoils at the fattened potboys of The Black Dog for a shant o' best or venturing into nooks after loose ladies on the buttock and twang.

"Cap'n, shall we round the cove?", asked Devon as he handled the great wooden wheel with ease though his ribs still ached from the vicious trading of the pugilistic arts.

"Nay, we shall stay on this side of the isle. I do not trust Angelus and will not leave my ship without course for flight, and do not weigh anchor, cut the cable and run the helm still. Just ready the longboats"

"Aye, aye, Cap'n"

"And where the hell is that dry mumpin' scuglagger, Spike?", snapped Faith as she watched Anya slide down the rigging quickly and land beside her with a light thud.

"I think he still be asleep, he drank an awful lot last night. I think he be rather worse for wear"

"As are we all", replied Faith nodding towards the blackened eye and chipped tooth of Anya.

"I make no apologies for my actions Cap'n, that rumkin was blackening yer name and he..."

"Aye, I was there remember? But I do thank thee for your loyalty, Anya"

"You're welcome Cap'n"

"Ken, go and find Spike will ye. He was supposed to be spritely at eight bells, so he better be dead or else I'll kill him", the Captain said as she moved aft to the tafarrels bleaching under the encrusted salt.

"Aye, aye Cap'n", replied the First Mate as she descended into the dark of below decks.

As the bright sun caught the fizzing crest of each wave, the sea off the quarterdeck seemed alive and riotous as it flared its sunlit palette 'neath the bow of The Slayer. With tackle singing and sail snapping the man o' war lunged forward cleaving the vast unyielding meadow of orange as the Isle sat but two hundred yards away.

In the cooling whip of the breeze there did spill the aromas of salted pig's trotters and drying herring, the scents swirled around and heaved through the decks, a purging trail of scent which eddied along the narrow passageways to the garrets which still held two bodies of suffering rum totters.

"Morning", said a soft voice who pressed their cracking lips once more to Spike's mouth which tasted most foul in the wake of Mother's Ruin.

"Mmmpph", he grunted in return.

Spike's thickened head did echo with the pound of a thousand terrified hooves and his loins felt most pricklesome, as his drying lips stretched his jaw did ache and his tongue played host to a taste not borne of liquor. His wits, once lost, were flooding back though most sored from alcohol's vehement tempest.

"Last night was a pleasure, was it not m'darlin'?"

"Aye", the Englishman murmured back still swimming in rum's virulent wake as he felt thin arms snake around his body and snuggle in tighter.

"So, what shall we do today, Stallion?", came the voice once more purring into the soft hairs on Spike's rugged chest.

"Well...finally", came the chuckle of Kennedy as she stepped into the room empty of all but one bed.

"Aye", replied Spike's bedmate to her with a soft gleeful purr as he stared up the blonde man whose body ached with grogs punch as he fought to reclaim the senses gifted to him by creation.

The ring of the words sounded familiar and Spike wrested his burning eyes down to see the soft eyes of Andrew staring back with unguarded affection dancing wildly.

"Bloody hell, w-what do ye think yer doin'?", Spike yelled as he tore back the thin damask sheets and leapt to his feet like a startled jackrabbit, the twiddle of alcohol shaken off by shock.

"What? Last night...ye said..."

"Stow it, ye mundungo built beggar! What did…..y'mean….me an' ye got to…what did ye do to me?"

"Me? I did naught, ye said...last night...ye said ye l-loved me", said Andrew with tears beginning to pool in his soft blue orbs.

"What? No I...and ye can...last night I had not the where-with-alls to know what I….nay, this be but madness….. no-no-no, this be not real…..one word Andrew and ye be history", snarled Spike as he hurriedly slipped on his breeches which had been ripped in the throes of passion the previous night.

"What? But ye said..."

"Another word and I'll be slingin' yer bloody arse out the porthole", he seethed as he snatched his effects and barged past Kennedy who still leant on the nicked and notched doorframe.

"B-but...", said Andrew as he wrapped himself in the sheet and got to his feet but his lover for all too brief a night had fled in a torrent of anger and denial.

"Leave him, Andrew...give him a while to listen to his heart, though ye know how thick headed he can be...it's a lot for him to accept…..but I must say, it's about time though", said the First Mate kindly as she stepped towards him.

"But he's so...mean, last night I told him and he...", sobbed Andrew as Kennedy hugged him warmly.

Despite his age and whimsical mind he was a most beloved of crewmates and treated as if he were spewed from the same loins as both Kennedy and Faith.

As the young man wept into Kennedy's black shirt she rubbed his back softly as she hated to see him upset, though she mocked him often and openly she still held a deep love for him, especially as he risked so much to save her from polishing the King's iron with her eyebrows in Recife.

"Give him time, my sweet.", she said as she broke the embrace and wiped his tears away, "He needs to clear his head o' rum first, then he can think of what you offer."

Spike's heavy feet clomped along the crouching gundeck as he swore and raved to himself for, even though he was long removed from the streets of London, he still bore a Chelsea temperament. The Lord took his mother during his birth and his father bore an unknown name, so Spike had been raised by men of the cloth and even though he was tempted to take to the cowl he felt such mistrust of his own soul as these feelings, only truly unearthed under grogs harness, vexed him so putting him at odds with his Papal upbringing.

Spike snorted hard with anger though he knew in his heart that his rage was aimed at himself, he barged past Marcie who was coming down the wooden stairs to join the queue waiting for the attentions of the good Doctor.

"Watch it", she said lightly as if she was engaging in the sacrament of confession.

"Bugger off!", he snapped as he strove for fresh air and solitude as he was most unimpressed by this caper.

"I…oh…", Marcie replied but knowing not what had irked Spike so, she simply opened the creaking door of the sickberth and slid inside. She looked around to see the cramped room laden with crewmates and ointments all swaying in the loll of the tide.

"Another? Oh Marcie, what be your ails this morn?", asked the venerated Doctor Osbourne as he wrapped another limb in swathes of bandage. The thin muzlin wrapped around the welted knuckles of Xander whose head still throbbed with the trail of rums desiring's, its heady tide had washed sense from him the previous eve and now he felt the grasp the sobriety claim its wicked mercies.

"A cut...on my arm", Marcie said shyly as Oz smiled at her well recalling how she had finally sought the release she craved for so long.

"You too? Aye but first, take your lime", he said handing her a small pewter gourd engraved in Italian.

"But…."

"Captain's orders, you know that", Oz said with no air of argument.

"Aye, I know it...have no liking for it though", she said as she felt the sharpened taste of the liquid curl her tongue in to angered forms.

"All finished Xander, just keep it clean and come see on the morrow for I will wrap it again"

"Thanks Oz", he said back with honesty's drawl encompassing his words before hauling to his unsteady feet and returning to duties above deck.

"Now Marcie, let me see...", Oz started as he drew shortened breath through smoke stained teeth and pulled the bloodied makeshift bandage from her arm, "You be most fortunate my dear, any deeper and I would have to take saw to your bone,. You were most lucky last night"

"I know, I didn't think she would….."

"I meant the wound...not with Glory"

"Oh", she said with embarrassed sheen as she let her eyes flit around the room where lay forceps, saw, bistoury and aneurysm needle, all boiled fresh as was the rigorous custom of the doctor.

"Dawn can ye thread me a needle? Thank ye honey", asked Oz as he watched the smiling teen nod back in earnest, though inside he sighed for a girl of so few years should not have to be accustomed to witnessing such bloody horrors.

The good doctor wiped his hands on his brown leather apron and shook his head well, once sobered he had been up all night wrapping noggin-tops and tending to cutlass wound. He was just thankful that not one of the crew had been sent to meet their maker. Indeed they be battered, bruised or had a terrible itching in their unmentionables, but Lorne would not have to carve any coffins this day.

"Oz…..about Glory…what do I...if I...what if I….. love her?"", Marcie said with a blush but even as she saw Dawn stick her tongue out and squint to slide the thread through the silver needle Marcie could not tear the smile from her face, she had spent all night thinking of Glory. She had made port in many a harbour in every corner of the world but 'twas only the tongue of Glory she e'er wanted for. She wished she knew what loves unfurled banner rippled like as she knew not if she felt desire for this comely wench or merely had a yearning to sate.

"My dear, do not mistake lust for love. She gives her love most freely, for a price at least; even I have paid my dues to spend an hour or two with her. Does she still do that thing with the candle and the handkerchief?"

"Aye, 'twas most impressive, but...ye think she could not…. love me?"

"I am not saying that, ye are well deserving of love as are we all, but beware its venom for it can strike without warning and leave ye...", Oz trailed off with a faraway expression.

"Ye speak as if your heart has known such love"

"Aye, a love that shall ne'er perish. I have a wife and daughter back home, I love them with a passion that no shot nor sword could quell but...

"They still be in England? Do you not wish to..."

"Dammit, of course I wish to see my home by the Medway again. My dear Verruca suffered so when I was convicted, and for what? For treating a man wanted by the crown, t'was my sworn oath to help those in need and I was condemned to the colonies for it. At least living my life this way my family think me shamed but alive on some distant land"

"You wish for England?"

"Aye, with a yearning that should be damnable but I know I will ne'er set foot on its shores again without the gallows man earning his keep."

"But what if ye could..."

"Nay, I have sworn my loyalty to this ship and its crew. I have long accepted that there will be no King's pardon for me I fear...hoi, belay your squirming there", he sighed as the two leeches on Warren's arm took their fill of blood, drawing his ills from him as was customary for any well practitioned doctor

"But it be all….urgh, 'tis most unwelcome", whined the thumbless man as he poked at the fattening leeches sucking 'pon his flesh by the tattoo of a bear he had inked in Tahiti.

"Just quiet your tongue, Warren", the good doctor said in his rich plummy vowels.

"But can they become any plumper?"

"I see your point, fine you may go", said Oz as he carefully prized the leeches off Warren's arm and put them back in the unlabelled glass jar.

"Thank ye Oz", he said and without another glance Warren scurried back to the decks.

"Now Marcie, tell me all about it and leave _**nothing**_ out", he said softly as he started to stitch the deep gash together, "Wait, Dawnie, can you go and fetch some fresh water? Thankyou"

The young girl nodded heartily and headed topside with a well decorated ewer to fill, unaware of the lurid details about to wash the sickberth.

Dawn bounded up on deck passing Warren on her way, her loose shirt pulled in tightly at the waist with a brown belt cinching in. Though it held no scabbard she hoped that soon she would feel the tap of steel 'gainst her thigh and the grip of pistol in her young palm.

She tapped the barrel of fresh water and smiled seeing the growing cheer of the crew, though battered by barrel and knuckle alike they had borne their frustration and as the sun reached its peak and the hour of meeting approached, the cobwebs span in sleep had been, for the most part, swept aside.

"Oh sorry, Dawnie", said Satsu as she stepped around the young girl who filled her blue and white ewer and rushed to get back below decks, she held no affection for the concubine in any way so just snorted in dim reply.

"Run along girl", said Satsu as she patted Dawn on the head condescendingly to which the young girl grimaced as she felt she was just shy of adulthood not fresh removed from the lull of cradlesong.

Satsu swept along the deck where the crew scraped holystone back and forth scrubbing the weathered timbers well, her long black dress with brimming cleavage and long split skirt was well suited to a scarlet woman such as she.

"Satsu, be that a new fan?", asked Warren watching as she of the well plundered cunny leant against the gratings.

"Aye, it worth much. Nice right?", she said as she flicked back and forth the lace trimmed fan with an ivory handle, its hand painted scene of cavorting pleasure on the banks of the Seine flitted a cool breeze across her face.

"Where did ye….hold, did ye…", he moved in closer to her brittle face, "Did ye go ashore last night?"

"Shhh", hushed the concubine looking around quickly.

"Despite the skipper's orders?"

"I had…well, I go to….you like fan?", she swerved without tact or grace, hoping her oft misquoted English would act as a crude veil to her assignation.

"Ye know if Faith found out she would keelhaul ye", he said with worry 'neath the spanker gaff.

"Then no tell her. You want me to buy silence of you? Let us make deal, you hold your tongue…and I will use mine", Satsu said as she grabbed Warren by his butchered hand and pulled him below decks. They trotted down the stairs and in the gloom of the foc's'le they passed by a redheaded maid who was wringing her hands most anxiously, before the concubine and her client slipped into the food store.

Willow watched the two sneak into the hold but thought little of it as more pressing issues consumed her mind. The previous night had been a mix of unfettered joy and burgeoning fate even though it had been tarnished by her swooning Willow knew she had questions to ask of the first mate. The maid had spied the fiery latina girl holding Andrew and felt a strange knock to her heart, though she knew Kennedy was one to succumb to maiden's song Willow still needed to talk to her and had been waiting for what seemed like hours until the woman wrested herself from the tearful embrace of a broken young man.

"Willow", came the voice snapping the maid from her thoughts.

"Oh….I….hello Kennedy….I….er… a-about last night…w-with my…you know….the.."

"Think nothing of it m'lady. I was not offended by it", said Kennedy as she stepped closer and placed a hand on the forearm of Willow. 'Twas only the smallest of gestures but the feel of the First Mate's warm fingers clasping her skin made the maid's head all a-tizz.

"T-that's not what I meant. I…I…w-when I….I….."

"Passed out?", smiled Kennedy.

"Aye…d-did ye….er…"

"Nay, I simply returned ye to your chamber and I watched over ye 'til the crew returned"

"B-but with me so prone, y-you could have taken advantage of me", said Willow dropping her gaze to her scuffed shoes of simple craftsmanship.

"Willow….I would never do such things, even to entertain such a thought sickens me as it should anyone with half a mind, I would….I _**could**_ never do that to anyone, let alone a treasure like you"

"I see", replied Willow whose heart felt unburdened by such mannerly intent but another question yet still foxed her understanding, "B-but ye…ye kissed me"

"Aye, and with your will permitting, I have a mind to do it again", said the First Mate as she pushed the young maid to the wall in the empty nook.

"I…would…..nay…I cannot", said Willow as she slipped out from the pressing and tried to control her blushing.

"Cannot?"

"I m-mean….it was…."

"It was what?"

"A pleasure I had never thought possible, like 'twas Eden's fruit to be…", admitted the maid shyly as Kennedy once more stepped forward wanting to feel Willow's skin 'pon her own once more.

"So why do you say nay to more?", asked Kennedy sounding more pleading than intended.

"I mean…not _**nay**_ just not _**now**_…please Kennedy, there is something which…."

"What is it?", asked the First Mate worried at the sudden change of demeanour of the redheaded beauty, from a warm smile to scared scowl in but an instant.

"Please, Miss Buffy has told me your Captain said things last night, about selling her to that vile Angelus! S-she did not mean to offend, p-please tell me those were angers words and once your Captain calms she will change her mind", said Willow clutching Kennedy's hand with salted eyes threatening to burst.

"I…I fear the Cap'n's lines be breached, did Miss Buffy tell ye why she ran from the tavern?"

"Nay, she said something about being scared of repeating her horrors of London, but all I can recall of horror is at the Duchess Dowager of Buccleuch's soiree when Miss Buffy used a shrimp fork out of place. Oh, Mr Travers gave her such a dressing down for that and was made to….well, I would rather not say"

"Will, stop your babbling"

"Sorry, but I believed Faith to be smitten with Miss Buffy e-even though Miss Buffy would despise such advances for s-she is a lady not a…a…well you know…", said Willow as shame flushed her skin to scarlet once more.

"I will talk to the Cap'n, but her mind is set something fierce. After the Countess she holds such.."

"Who?"

"I have said too much, but fair Willow I will speak with Faith. But I promise nothing"

"Please, I will do anything for you if you save Miss Buffy from such a fate, I-I cannot even imagine life without Miss Buffy, I would die without her for I love her as she were my kin. Please Kennedy, save her and I-I will be y-y-yours and I…I….I will g-give you my flower for it", said Willow with little more than whisper's grace.

"Nay", replied Kennedy with solemnity.

"N-nay?"

"I will not take that which is not given freely", replied Kennedy sternly for she would ne'er take such a reward.

"B-but you are a pirate. It's what you do"

"Not that. Never have I taken a lap o' cunny without the blessings of the maiden"

"I see…but do something…..please…I beg of thee " Willow whimpered through her flood of tears and dropped to her knees before the First Mate, looking up at her with eyes that spake of Lucifer's promise.

"Please do not humble yerself like this m'lady", said Kennedy as she took Willow by her thin arms wrapped in cotton spun by wefted thread.

"B-but I would do anything for Miss Buffy and….."

"I-I will try to talk to her….but the Cap'n said…"

"Oh be damn'd with the Captain!", snapped the maid in defiance of everything she thought of herself and pulled away from Kennedy.

"You forget your place, m'lady", growled the pirate at the lack of respect flickering in the voice of but a lowly maid.

"I…I'm sorry, but please", Willow begged through rasping voice that swam with desperations tide.

"I will do what I can"

"Thank you", said Willow softly as she watched Kennedy walk away, wringing her hands for she had never asked a favour from anyone, let alone from one she owed much to already.

Willow stepped to one side as a one eyed man with a still throbbing head returned from tapping his flask, he sipped the brew and exchanged a brief nod with the morbidly shy maid.

"What b-be that wretched smell?", she asked quietly.

"Rumfustian", replied Xander as he sipped from the oaken tankard he had taken from The Black Dog still bearing the dent shaped like the jawline of one Mr Trick. His head still pounded with the sound of a troupe of cobblers on an icy morn

"What?"

"Raw eggs...mixed with beer and liquor, nothing quite like it to free yer head from the twist of a heavy night", he said as his stomach, firm as a knot of seaweed, felt the swell of drink wash his innards.

"Oh, how foul", Willow replied and went back to her cabin to talk to Buffy, hoping the red swelling around her eyes did not add to her Mistress' distress.

Xander simply shrugged and took another swig before stepping back to deck, the flaming sun whipped his eyes into narrow slits and the fresh air purged his lungs of any curses before they could spill from his cracked and splitted lips.

"Cap'n, permission to die?", he sighed with a groan heavy smile.

"Not yet Mr Harris, ye will only die when I say", Faith grinned back well used to his merry making and the price he paid the next morn.

"Aye, aye, skipper", Xander smirked back as he leaned against a barrel and lay his head on the alms box.

"Mr Gunn, what say ye?", yelled Faith as The Slayer came about as the waves lapped 'gainst its hull with sharpened urge.

"We be struck and stowed skipper", the Bo'sun replied as she scratched his codlings well for they did itch maddeningly.

As the anchor did rattle from their ship the crew of vagabonds and buccaneers knew well of Angelus' ways, they sat stern toward the beach ready for The Wolfram in case his words were tainted, at caution's behest half the crew would remain on board The Slayer removing the lead aprons from their gunlocks and the tompions from their muskets.

As the deck bustled with movement Faith stood at the foredeck and leaned one leg, covered in brown half boot, on the side.

"Mr Gunn, send Jesse aft. I need him to..."

"Sorry Cap'n, I have not seen him since last night."

"Did he not return?"

"I think not", Mr Gunn said back with disappointment.

"Damn that mimsey, well I'm sure Madam Dru will look after him"

"Or hack parts off him with a fork and feed it to her customers"

"That's only a rumor, sort of...wait, last night Jesse said he had something to tell me. I wonder what was so important...", Faith pondered aloud as the one legged man had always been most trustful thus far.

"Cap'n, the cross is missing! The one from Gun-I-Sawai", yelled Marcie as she ran out on deck. 'Twas a golden crucifix encrusted with fine jewels and was most prized amongst the loot The Slayer had ensnared in the seven months since their last trade with Angelus. 'Twas a daring move to plunder the treasure ship of the Great Moghul Of India and Faith had incurred his sworn revenge but with his own land on the verge of rebellion his time would have to wait.

"Damn, that Jesse. He no doubt took it for grog n' ladies afore we could trade it, he shall rue the day!", snarled Anya with disgust twisting her visage.

"Indeed….he shall", said Faith with a curious slant to her brow. She had taken Jesse as a man of his word and he knew better than to cross mettle with her, such a notion seemed unthinkable but the facts remained. Jesse had gone, and so had the cross.

"Cap'n, I need to speak with ye…alone", said Kennedy who had tried to bide her time well to catch the crest of Faith's joviality but as time was fleeting she had no choice but to broach the matter of Buffy now.

"Later Kennedy…..Avast men!", Faith yelled to snare their attention as she looked down on the motley assortment of crew, "I know some of ye be feeling the effects of grog and fightin' but I can honestly say thank ye for your loyalty last eve, now as I look in your eyes, though they still be swimming in the tide of rum and like company, I can say with no shadow of a lie...who the hell are _**you**_?"

Her brow furrowed seeing an unknown face amidst her throng of battle hardened scoundrels, the crew turned round to see a man in dirty breeches and no shirt and showed the tell-tale livid blotches on his skin.

"I...er...I be Johnathan", he said timidly rubbing his neckcloth sored skin.

"Well Johnathan, why the hell are you aboard my ship?", she said with steady voice though on this morning she could hardly bear more annoyance though his face somehow seemed to strike familiarity's gong.

"Twas my doing, Cap'n", said Warren in defence, "I- I could not bear to leave him in the stocks like that, not after...you know..."

"He was in the neckcloth…. in the Hellmouth...and you took him?"

"Aye...I.."

"You took a man who would not be there without Madam Dru's say? You took her justice for naught and stole her property? Do ye have any idea what she will do to you when she finds out?", said Faith with pity as she could well recall the time that Captain Rayne crossed that line, his son had paid a terrible price but he knew he could offer no revenge without every cut-throat on the sea hunting him down and turning his world to sorrow and ash.

"I...oh", said Warren with regret seeing the stern look on his Captain's tired face.

"So Johnathan, why should I allow you stay on my ship as we never had any mollies on board before and we have Satsu for all that", quipped Faith as she stepped down from the forepeak to stand face to face with this man.

"Damn right", snapped Satsu in her high pitched tone of Chinese tang as she carefully hid her new fan in her bussle.

"Nay, I be not...of that ilk", Johnathan stammered from 'tween the crops of pimples around his mouth and blushed as though his breeches were now tightly fastened, his Gentleman's Nook had oft been invaded during the past three days.

"Then what good are ye? Give me one good reason not to sling your fat ass over board right now?", goaded Faith as she circled him with heavy deliberate footsteps as she took in his scent of sweat and earthen damp.

"I was...I looked after the maps on..."

"So ye know the wefts and warps of the sea then, but we have no need of a compass bearer on this vessel"

"But I know of tides a-and..."

"Fine, ye may stay for now…but 'tis on your head Warren, should he prove to be filth then be fairly warned...new earrings shall be mine, but what say ye men? Would ye care to see if this canary, recently freed from his cage, can fly?", Faith shouted to her men.

"Aye!", the crew yelled in unison smelling the waft of mischief as Johnathan found himself engulfed in a press of bodies who spats their laughter and curses 'pon him.

The portly young buck was heaved across deck and had his hands tied by thick rope, as the haul through block and tackle snapped to, the crew laughed as Johnathan was run sixty feet up the main yardarm, shrieking as he swung far over the old fashioned lug mizzen which projected over the transom.

The crew cheered greatly as they let go and, as the rope did whip and burr through the tackle, Johnathan hurtled into the sea, a huge splash echoed around the briny as he spluttered and thrashed in the misty blue waters.

"Ha, ye fawney longshore bugger!", shouted Spike as he watched the blubberpot flail in the waves helping Dawn up so she could see the fun.

"What say ye Dawnie? Again?", asked Xander as he watched the young giggle like a maiden possessed as she shared peanuts with Wesley who perched on her shoulder, his tail hooked round her thin neck.

Dawn smiled widely and nodded as they hauled the lesioned man back up 'til he was abreast of the mizzen before, upon Dawn's nod, they loosed the ropes dunking him back into the sea making her squeal and laugh freely as he murbled on.

"Twice is good...but thrice be better", shouted Spike as, with this mirth, his own angst put aside for if he should his true wrath then questions would raise about breeches being lowered.

They hauled Johnathan back up and twice more he was raised to the mizzen side afore being dropped into the sea as the brass mouthed knocker floundered in his wetting.

"Alright men, haul him to", said Faith, this dunking lightening her hearts dreadful scowl somewhat.

Johnathan was yanked free from the purge of the surf and thrown down on deck, a spluttering gasping wretch if ever there was one as he was crowded by the pirates who knew not if he were black hearted scoundrel or Prince's cur fallen foul of Madam Dru's whim.

"What say ye men, be he clean enough?", asked the Captain looking down at the man with sturdy simplicity.

"Aye, he be of good sport", chuckled Mr Gunn as he slipped his dagger from his belt and sliced free the coarse binds.

"Agreed, we _**do **_need a keelsman", she chuckled as all who sailed the Caribbean knew how weeds and barnacles grew rapidly on a wooden hull in tropical waters and impeded the handling greatly.

"Take him below, get Oz to check him over...and get him something to wear", Faith said with stern guarantee as she despised the scurvy, the roseate flarings on Johnathan's body gave her cause for concern as once the disease ravaged him further his teeth would loosen as his gums turned to fungus and she wanted not to see to one suffer as her father once had.

Amid the merriment Anya stood there silently watching him with caution as she stroked the feathers of Hallie, her pigeon of most favour and plumpest breast. Johnathan caught her narrow slitted glare and returned his own before going below with the roughened hands of Spike aiding him gruffly.

"Warren, if he so much as sets a foot wrong then...you know what you forfeit", said the Captain bringing him to one side.

"Aye, I will take full response for him"

"But why? You know him not"

"No, b-but..."

"Be you of a dunce's pate? What if he is a spy or bait for Naval swine? Do ye think he was stock'd for welching on monies owed or selling bad meat? 'Twas the Hellmouth Warren, where death and mayhem reign supreme, he was put there for a reason."

"You think he be….?"

"I know not, but he has earned no trust and sworn no fealty to flag or ship. Be warned, he will be watched and if he should err then ye be forfeit", said Faith with discipline's glare.

"I understand skipper, but I could not leave him there for I have been in such a position before as well ye know, being so helpless and open to hurt. No punishment is worse than finding a loyalty and having it torn asunder"

"I...just shift t'moorings then get the muskets from the magazine. I want us fully armed in case, you know full well of Angelus and his thirst for blood, but brail up the canvas and deploy the sweeps. I want us ready for sea or battle"

"Aye, aye Cap'n", he replied and nodded to Amy to follow him below to fetch the muster, primed and readied for action.

Faith stepped back aft and inhaled deeply to shake the lack of sleep from her dusty bones, despite the frivolity of Johnathan's dunking her mind was still plagued and knew not what her angst would allow her to do.

"Cap'n, I need to speak with ye. Please"

"Aye, what is it?", replied Faith as she and her trusted First Mate stepped back to the capstan for a moment's solitude where they could speak freely.

"Faith, I know of your hurt and why such…", started Kennedy in respectful tones.

"Ken, what do ye mean to say?"

"I know that this Buffy might have…"

"_**Might**_ have? She is a liar, no more…. no less", snapped Faith as her disdain for Buffy returned.

"But since when did you condemn someone as fair as she to such a fate as Angelus?"

"Ye think I shall fall into a pit of ruin for someone such as Buffy? Nay, I have made such mistakes before and ne'er again shall I let my heart rule my sense", said Faith as she jammed on her tricorn hat and glowered from 'neath it's angled brim.

"But what of Willow?", Kennedy said as a wash of foreboding shook her.

"Who?"

"The maid"

"The red one means nothing to me, you can keep her and lo you may reap Aphrodite's harvest"

"Keep her? She is not my property nor do I wish her to be, but if she loses her precious Buffy…"

"Buffy-Buffy-Buffy! I am so sickened by that name and I care not a tinker's cuss to hear it! Let Angelus have her and do as he wishes for as of now I…care….no…more", snapped Faith looking to the desolate island, the economy of her truth as yet untallied.

"And ye will stand eye to eye with such a cur as Angelus and trade her to him, your eyes could not bear it Faith, ye forget I know you as well as ye know yerself."

"I be not going ashore, I trust not the word of Angelus despite the accord. If flight or fight is called for I wish to helm my ship. You do the trade….and fetch a handsome price, Ken"

"But what about…"

"Just do it"

"I…I cannot in good faith act so, she has done naught to warrant such a punishment", reasoned Kennedy as she could feel the tension knotting the friendship between her and the Captain.

"I see, ye think ye be under the trammels of my word and wish to be free of me? Have I e'er steered ye wrong? Ye dare speak of mutiny to me?"

"Nay, never! But…I speak to ye as a friend"

"And I to ye as your Cap'n, so do as I say…._**First Mate**_"

"But Faith….."

"Do it Ken, that be an order", barked out Faith as she wished not to reveal the quandary that grasped at her soul's peace, not at the price of losing her beloved First Mate's trust or love.

"Aye, aye Cap'n", replied Kennedy, her loyalty standing firm though her heart did wrench at such a task.

She had heard Faith rant until sun up about the solemnity of vows sworn 'pon mortal plots, a flinching and rage filled tune that, though slightly tempered, still held Faith in its clutches.

Kennedy stepped away and faced the anxious redhead, who had stepped up on deck hearing the plight of Johnathan, whose skin trembled at the thought of losing her beloved Mistress in such a foul way.

"Well?"

"I be so sorry, m'lady", said Kennedy with a mournful shake of the head, her eyes refusing to gander up from the deck.

"No….no, I will not let her be…..Captain!", snapped Willow as she barged past Kennedy and dared to yank Faith round by the braided shoulder.

"How dare you do this Captain! Miss Buffy is not a trinket to be sold for a measure of drink", yelled Willow paying no heed to her station firing a look of glim flashy.

"What are ye wittering on about? Be ye kicking up a bobbery?", snorted Faith in reply.

"Indeed I do, h-how can you be such a callous knave? I-I though ye be sweetened on her, as vile as that sounds…"

"How dare ye speak to me like that?"

"I shall speak as I like for none of your crew are gall enough to say the truth, you are a monster and with each act of villainy you are merely kindling god's wrath against ye", said Willow with a capital sneer as if inherited from Buffy by passive bonding.

"Pah, let the heavens open up and try for I have wrath of my own to tear heaven asunder"

"B-but you gave your word that no harm shall come to Miss Buffy aboard your ship", said Willow with fading anger as she could see the roar of Faith's heart bridle what truths she may feel.

"And it remains so, once she is off my ship then she no longer be under my protection and any harm that may befall her is not my fault. Unlike your Miss Buffy, my word rings true not to be blighted by deceit"

"And this is not deceit? You sell off the one you claim to be smitten with for she would not obey your every whim, she is not your pet nor property"

"My word…"

"Your word means nothing, it counts for naught when pledged by a pirate, you are all felons condemned by your own acts"

"And is that news to thee?"

"Nay! You cannot just trade her for coin. And to think, she had let her disdain for you and your crew simmer away"

"S-she did?", said Faith as her anger was rattled free from her voice with shock.

"Willow, stay your words. Heathen vermin such as that deserves not the finery of pity's calm", said a haughty voice from behind her.

The maid span round to see Buffy had been hauled up to the deck pushed along by Amy though the Lady shrugged off the decadent pirates grip as if she ready to make her submissions before gallows' lullaby.

"Well, looks as if…oh…I…", said Faith over her shoulder to the indignant blonde but Buffy raised her head even higher and turned her back on the Captain. Buffy was dressed in the fine gown she wore during dinner with Faith and she was such a startling beauty that could wrangle tears from any kind hearted seraph.

"I will meet my fate as a Lady and nothing less, though your Captain be as cold hearted and cruel as her legend said I will not waste but one breath on any pleas to her", snipped Buffy to Spike who looked on unsure as to what he should do.

"Man the longboats, ye have an appointment to attend", said Faith sharply as she saw the pompous charade that Buffy had let slip of late stride over her soul once more. The Captain refused to meet Buffy's eyes as she feared what those hazel orbs would unlock, what fears would be made flesh by such a sight.

"But Captain, I implore ye…", begged Willow with one final cast of the die.

"Cease your wittering, Kennedy you take your whore and….", growled the Captain, but upon emergence of these words into the calm air she felt the sharpened pain of Willow's palm striking her across the face.

"What the hell?"

"You hurt me…I hurt thee", said Willow with disdain broiling within each well-tailored syllable.

"Oh you lil'….", Faith said as her knuckles whitened around the hilt of her blade but before her sword could loose itself Xander hauled the angered Willow away.

"I have a mind to disembowel you right here and get your Mistress to clean up your innards!", roared the Captain in fury as a mere pantry girl as this should dare strike such a dominant wench of the seas.

"God rot your bones Captain…..get off me…", squawked the furious maid who with every wrench of her body could feel her heart cracking as the trade came ever closer.

"Nay, if ye do not leave now who knows what she will do to you too", whispered Kennedy to the struggling maid, "But not all hope is lost, leave it with me"

"Be ye sure not to come, skipper?", asked Mr Gunn as he heaved the fraying ropes through the short splice and the longboat swung out to greet the peaks of the rising waves.

"Aye, and by the words of the accord no more than seven of either crew are to be present during trade, now go", said Faith with one final command and as she watched Buffy sit with rigid back in the small wooden vessel, crafted by the finest of shipwrights, and comfort herself within the shroud of conceit and dignity. Willow held her hands and wept openly as Buffy chided her for acting in such a way in front of their hosts.

"Come on Dawn, let's go and…what?", Faith asked the young girl whose face was contorted with confusion. Her small hands gesturing wildy to both the Captain and Buffy whose figure was shrinking into the distance.

"Oh….her. I thought she was special but…she…she was not what I hoped"

Dawn waved her fingers making signs that only a few of the crew could decipher.

"You? You would never betray me and…...no, you know I would never….it be not like that sweetie, she never…you liked her? Well I did too but….it has never been like that…..what the?", Faith said in surprise at Dawn's notions, but she was more surprised when Wesley threw a peanut at her which bounced off the dread Captain's chin.

"Dawnie, go and help Andrew…I said go", said Faith with exhaustion as Dawn stomped away. The Captain could see the youngsters point but the finite stubbornness of Faith was as crippling as it was admired, but now? She felt she was losing it all, the kinship of her First Mate, the love of her sister, even the respect of her pet monkey. And it was all for the feelings she would deny for Buffy, and now it was too late to salvage, Faith would now have to suffer with her decisions and ne'er look back.

Once into the longboats Spike deployed the sweeps and they cut sharply through the surf with determined ease. As the small boat sailed ever closer to the island Buffy sat proudly aft, her nose in the air and a haughtiness that reeked off her in waves as the demonic figurehead of The Slayer became smaller as they rowed from its safety and into the unknown. The Isle Of J'he was little more than an outcrop of jagged cliffs and worn rocks upon which the waves dashed with thunderous repetition.

"Tips us yer daddle, cully", scoffed Spike as Xander's oarsmanship left a lot to be desired.

"Sorry, my head still be waning", he said back groggily.

"That Captain, she is such a….a….a lubberly toper", said Willow with sadness embittering her anger.

"Lucky I pulled ye away when I did, I have ne'er seen someone raise a hand to the Cap'n who didn't pay for it most regretfully", said Kennedy trying to soothe the maid.

"Oh a flogging is it, I could bear it", said Willow derisively.

"A floggin' is no matter t'shrug off, it's painful and bloody and above all mortifyin'. It be not just the pain o' the lash ye feel, it's the pain of humiliation. Bein' spread on the gratin' hand an' foot, made to cry out in pain and soil yer breeches reducing ye to a wicked child spared not the rod. Even when the scars have sealed ye will ne'er think again about unleashin' yer tongue", said Spike as he hauled at the oars.

"Aye, 'tis true", confirmed Mr Gunn as his muscles pumped hard under his shirt, "The Cap'n is most troubled in the mind this day, I would not dare cross her when she be like this."

Faith slammed her cabin door shut and grabbed at the half filled bottle of wine on her table, she tore the cork free and held it fast to her lips but afore it could vanquish her worries and pain something stopped her. A nagging feeling that she knew no liquor nor shot could sate her desire or rid her inner turbulence.

Sliding the bolt across the door Faith moved a cask whose tightly caulked seams had yet to be tapped and pulled free a singed hessian sack, part of the slight booty they had taken from The Resolution some nights earlier unknown to their guests. Plunging her hands into the rough bag Faith gently pulled free a box, naught more than a trinket but once she had seen the delights it bore, the Captain had not the heart to trade it with Angelus.

The finely carved music box sat before her on the table, her fingers, encrusted with salt and dried blood, ran over the brass engraving on its front, words of such beauty and love from one Henry Summers to his doted upon daughter that Faith fought to hold the lump in her throat which gravied her dark eyes.

As Faith lifted the lid the shining mirrors of the inside flared in her eyes, eyes that still wallowed in the mire of betrayal, as a thin figurine started to dancel. A ballerina with chipped paint started to twirl as the chimes set in play, 'Ring O' Roses' sounded out in Faith's cabin, a vast and imposing change to the usual carousing drunken pirate anthems but this was much more than a merry tune, for each note held such comforting memories to the Captain, memories of times that she would ne'er visit again, moments of such tenderness and compassion that even thinking of them again seared her soul. Her mind cudgelled within itself to wrest free from such recollections but as the song sounded out Faith fought to hold the sob which bred within her breast.

She read the engraving once more and slowly closed the lid wiping a tear from her eye, that song, one she had not heard since she was thirteen, played over and over in her mind, She put the box back under her bed and glanced over at the table where sat a unused bottle and her oft used sword.

One would bring salvation, and one would bring her more pain that she could e'er admit.

Time slowly dragged itself past her as Faith stared out at the beach, she smiled with contempt as she wrapped her fingers around the item on her table. Her heart as laden and cumbersome as a coffin cart come typhus season.

And she swore.

Not of cursed nature.

But a vow.

A vow she would give her blood not to break.

.

…..

.

_**Within the hour, on the Isle Of J'he**_

"I could sail it with ease you bitch, I _**was**_ a Captain y'know"

"Pah, ye be little more than some jumped up Mistress o' bunting rather than owner of sails and…"

"Will ye two stow it!", roared Angelus as he tired of the constant bickering 'tween Darla and Lilah.

Two rival knots of scabrous men, each bearing ferocious loyalty to their ships, had traded coin and jewel, trinket and silk, and chests of plunder'd booty sat in the crunch of sand which shined under the midday sun. Captain Angelus stood at the front of his crew dressed, as ever, in long black coat and exquisite linen, Parisian cologne wafting across from this odious creature to the cluster of men from The Slayer who stood but ten feet away. Both sides brandishing hunting hangers, axe and pistol and ready to use said weapons come the approach of betrayal's cloak.

"And now Xander, one last piece o' booty to trade I think", smirked Angelus, his fingers ringed by gold which clutched ruby and diamond.

"Aye, this be Miss Buffy Summers", Xander said sadly as he gave the nod for Mr Gunn and Devon to haul Buffy forth, but, despite the terror which thundered through her, Buffy was not going to let a cluster of cut throats see her quake. If these were to be her last moments of liberty then she would face them as a noble, not a petrified pet. She raised her head and lifted her petticoats with slightest touch and stepped through the swash of sand until she stood before Captain Angelus.

"Nooo!", cried Willow as she struggled hard against the firm grips of Anya and Spike, "Kennedy, please!"

"Mmmm, she really be a comely lass", smiled Angelus as he stepped forward to trail a finger across Buffy's cheek, but she turned from him and etched her face with haughty stone. "I guess ye be not good enough for dear Faithy"

"Speak not that name to me Sir, _**Captain**_ Lehane means nothing to me", Buffy snorted back with the pretence of strength when inside she was quivering like a damn'd rogue before an altar.

"Heh, she has some spirit….I'll soon knock that out of her….I will offer one thousand gold pieces for her"

"I….I think she be worth much more", said Xander with a gulp, he was one to always shrink under the radiating power of the scurrilous Captain.

"Do ye play with me? Try to make me as a fool? For if so, I'd take pleasure in guttin' you boy. Now do ye accept my offer?", sneered Angelus.

"I…very well...", said Xander following his Captain's orders, though it be not a good price for a treasure such as she, there was no-one with enough coin to rival Angelus. His Egyptian-Sudanese short sword hung by his side but Xander knew that even though such a weapon could cleave a man's head in twain, the accord was an oath of non-violence that both sides stuck to, though the simmering tension and threat was ever present.

"Three thousand!", shouted Kennedy.

Both crews stared at her, shocked that she would so willingly offer such gold for someone she wished not to bed with.

"Ach lassie, you could never muster such coin, but I will play fair", replied Angelus calling Kennedy's bluff as he touched at his lips with a lacy kerchief before returning it to his sleeve,

"Five thousand"

Kennedy's mouth fell open as she could ne'er in a lifetime afford such a bounty, she turned to Willow apologetically and flashed her a sad smile as the maid sobbed in the twin grasps on her arms.

"Noooo! Please, take me…I beg of thee", sobbed Willow as her tears seemed to flow for eternity.

"Any other offers?", asked Xander with rasping voice seeing the heartache tearing the redhead in twain.

"I think I be the highest bidder here Mr Harris. So give me what is mine", came the cruel sneer of the pirate.

"No", squeaked Willow as her whole self trembled in fear, the last desperate effort from Kennedy had failed and now, her beloved Mistress was to made concubine, or worse, to the cruellest blaggard of the seas.

"I…", started Xander sadly, "I declare the bidding…."

"Ten thousand!", came the shout from the back of the crowd.

The scabrous menagerie turned to the voice. Looking up to see Faith standing defiantly on the jagged rocks in her favoured longcoat, her crimson kerchief crossing her forehead making her darkened locks spill out over it as if a too filled barrel o' grog offing its load.

"Well, bless me jeckles", said Spike in surprise as he watched the graven faced Captain leap from the sea smoothened rocks and strut across the sand with defiant purpose, her sword knocking her leg with a metallic crack.

"Faith?", asked Angelus as he saw, from the corner of his eye, a brief smile flare upon the face of Buffy, which was quickly snuffed by the façade of strained dignity.

"Aye", she said back as she pushed through the throng of marauders until she stood with spitting distance of him.

"What ye be doing? This girl is already yours, so why do you bid?", asked Angelus eyeing up the rogue of wretched infamy.

"You forget Angelus, my ship is not under tyranny unlike yours, and my crew be not a rumshod mix of slivey poxers. The booty of the The Slayer is shared by the crew, we all have pitch whether it be of gold…or of beauty, she is _**ours**_ not mine. So I will pay from my own purse"

"But Faithy….", sighed Angelus not liking the ruse the younger Captain was indulging in.

"By the rules of our accord I can bid on whatever takes my fancy, _**she**_ takes my fancy and I bid ten thousand"

"Ah, I see. Ye want her as your personal wench to lie with whether she wants to or not? I know how ye like the feisty ones, right Darla?"

"Shut up", growled his second in command as she stared on at Faith with the curs'd eyes of a woman scorned.

"But aye, the accord holds true….so for a sweet lass like this Buffy girl…..twelve thousand", said Angelus.

"Fifteen", snapped back Faith eyeing up her comrade defiantly.

"Faithy, ye can buy a dozen girls for that, with flowers in tact too, and surely ye don't want to cross me again do ye? Sixteen!"

"Eighteen"

"Twenty", growled back Angelus tiring of the game.

"Twenty five thousand!", Faith barked as both crews fell silent as no captive had ever reached such a price, not even Lady Diana Dormer whom Angelus had snared off the coast of San Sebastiao and sold on these two years past.

"Ach Faithy, ye do not hold that kind of money"

Faith reached under her loose white shirt and pulled out a small velvet purse monogrammed with the initials 'RW', she tossed it to the one handed Bo'sun of The Wolfram, a rakish fop by the name of Lindsay, who tore his hook through its material and into his other hand spilled countless sapphires and finely cut diamonds.

"Nay, Faith. That be…", started Xander in shock seeing what she had handed over.

"I know what it be, Xan", replied Faith, "It be the price I must pay for my mistakes. I will not let her fall into his hands nor be traded in kind. So Mr Lindsay, what say ye?"

"Mon dieu, these are worth much more than twenty five thousand gold pieces, take it Sir. This is much more than we could ever make from renting out her intimacies", he enthused to Angelus who seemed not to care for monies this day.

Buffy's mouth fell open at such banter, that Faith was willing to give all she had to wrench Buffy from a harlot's life and miserable death.

"This be not about money be it Faith? Ye are sweet on her are you not?", smirked Angelus quashing his anger that he could be outbid so.

Faith glanced at the blonde girl as a small blush infused her cheeks and she dropped her embarassed gaze to her boots encrusted in sand and squelching from the lap of the tide when she had come ashore.

"Christ Jesu. Hah, the scourge of the Caribbean whipped by a dainty tart like this?", Angelus guffawed seeing the tickle of romantic intent flourishing in Faith's eyes.

"Hold your tongue, bastard", she bluffed as her eyes fired with rage at him being able to see what was so obvious to all.

"I am the highest bidder, she be mine. So I will bid ye good day, Sir", said Faith flippantly as she turned her back on Angelus, took Buffy's arm and hauled her away until she heard the slide of steel from scabbard.

"You will not take her from me…..I _**need**_ her", said Angelus with veiled truth

"As do I", whispered Faith softly, catching her tongue quickly and hoping that Buffy, who stood by her side had not heard her.

"This be much more than about you or I Faithy, it be much bigger than you can e'er imagine. I will not let ye take her while I live", warned Angelus with his sword already free from the tasselled scabbard.

"Then I will take when you're dead!", roared Faith as she pushed Buffy into the arms of Xander and span on her heels drawing blade quicker than harpies breath with eyes afire as she faced him like a virago.

Their blades clashed furiously under the burning sun as their feet shimmied back and forth in the sand, lunging with anger as the steel slashed into the air. The fury of clinking metal rang out as they fought like creatures possessed vying for their very souls, pushing back and forth

"Why do ye fight me, I have killed more than ye can ever know, and all for this girl? I have seen her contempt for ye Faithy, ye mean nothing to her, so why do risk all for someone who lusts ye not?"

"My reasons are my own", replied Faith with labored breath as they fought up the rocks that, from the sight of the other pirates, made them but silhouettes in the broad blue sky.

"Will ye betray the word of yer father, Faithy? His word was his bond was it not? I thought you lived by his oath"

"Not anymore", Faith said back breathlessly as she parried his powering thrusts of steel.

"Ye think she will love thee for wresting her from me? Nay, ye will ne'er get the chance to hold hands on an autumn eve or share a chaste kiss 'neath the moon", he said as their blades came to an impasse, both hands and blades struggling back and forth until he pushed her off.

"Ye think ye can hurt me with words as your sword will ne'er strike me down?"

"Face it Faithy, she will never love you, no-one is _**ever**_ going to love ye and ye know why? Because you are not worth it, you be the child of a drunken whore and you are as much a worthless bitch as…arggh!". The cruel words of Angelus halted as she sliced open his cheek near through to his teeth.

"Ye'll pay for that", he roared.

He attacked with full ferocity, the time for banter was at an end as he lunged and swung with Faith on the backfoot barely able to block the blows as one sliced through her thigh, her eye cracked and bled as he bludgeoned her with the ornate hilt of his sword.

But she could see from the corner of her eye the horrified look on Buffy's face. It was the look of dread and fear, but it was enough to distract the brunette long enough to have her sword knocked from her hand.

Angelus grinned wide as his sword plunged into her side, only stopped by the chip of her ribs. Blood spurted forth like a well handled bilge pump and slid through Faith's clutching fingers in a flow of crimson.

"Aww, Faithy does it hurt? Look at ye, on your knees before me, not the first time though is it lassie?"

Angelus pulled his blade from Faith's ribs and swung it around his head, his inflated sense of ego parading as his crew cheered, he held it aloft to the sun, her blood trickling down its steel shaft as he readied to strike her through the heart in one glorious motion.

"Faith!", screamed Buffy seeing the desperate look of the fallen Captain, her haughty shell crack'd by the shock of blood and pain etched on Faith's face who was staring her mortality in the face.

"Looks like yer lady friend's a wee bit scared, don't you fret though, once ye be dead…then she will be mine to do what I wish to her"

But his distraction, though fleeting, was enough for Faith to clamber to one last pinnacle of rage and reach into her boot and draw her dagger, before he could line up a heart piercing strike she leapt up and plunged the thin blade into the throat of her former comrade before her bloody and exhausted body slumped back down to her sand covered knees.

His words became throttled and winsome as the thick blood ran freely down his shirt. As he staggered back a hush fell over both crews, his knees did buckle as his precious life's blood poured from the gaping hole in his neck. He stared at Faith as their faces were mere inches apart.

"Y-yer….never have….her F-Faithy…it were all….I….her..f-father….I…", he said before slumping into her shoulder where he whispered words that despite the burning sun sent a chill to her very bowels.

Faith pushed him back with terror rising in her eyes as if she had felt the very breath of Cerberus himself on her neck.

"N-nay…I…I left _**him**_ slain"

"N-not slain e….e-nough", Angelus coughed out before he bellowed one last laugh.

"W-wait…what did you…?", Faith said in fear as she shook him hard but the feared Captain Angelus was no more.

His body fell back into the sand with his blood pooling around him but even in death he still wore that smile of arrogance that Faith so despised. It had been her victory, but at what cost.

Angelus had breathed his last wick'd breath and within it taunted his victor with a word that Faith felt shiver her battered soul.

Faith forced herself to her feet and wiped the blood from her face, her hands grasping the wound on her side which stained her shirt in a vicious claret hue. Her mind splintering with terrors that only Kennedy and Xander knew the truth of, but she was Captain of The Slayer and such fears were for lesser women. Forcing a calm pallor onto her face Faith staggered over to Buffy and her crew.

Buffy, still being hugged by a thankful and tear strewn Willow, looked on in shock and awe, within Faith's fighting the truth of how she really felt about Buffy had spilled out but, at the same time, she had just seen her kill a man. Her mind swirled as she knew not how to feel, but one fact was certain, she had been bought by the Captain.

Bought like crop or chattel.

Faith walked over to Buffy breathless as Oz rushed to check her wound pressing into the gaping slash on her side.

"It be not too bad, a few stitches and you will be fine. I've stitched ye up after worse", said the Doctor with a wry smile.

"B…I….be you alright?", breathed Faith heavily as a dusting of sand swirled around Buffy's petticoats.

"Aye…I mean yes…I", Buffy started but seeing as she had been placed within the muzzle of death and servitude by Faith herself, the blonde woman could not help but stab once more. "So I'm your property now then Captain Lehane, do you expect me to thank thee and succumb to your ownership. To lower my drawbridge and….."

"Nay…I…..mean…I fear I owe you…"

"Owe me…I though you _**owned**_ me?"

"B, just hear my words…I….", Faith said as she dropped her eyes, her throat seemed to narrow under the construct of an apology, as if such notions were sacrilege to her piratical essence.

"Madam, you stare at your feet and not at your prize. Be I no longer to your liking?", Buffy asked. It was supposed to be a taunt but she could not help but gild her words with genuine concern.

"B….Miss Summers, I have done wrong by ye...I want to believe your word, I truly do", said Faith raising her gaze to clash with Buffy's once more, but her own eyes could no longer bear to strike with her illusion of disdain. Within her doe like stare she let her soul be unguarded and, for the first time, Buffy saw the real Faith staring back at her.

"Oh, credulity, thy name is Faith, but a cage, no matter how gilded or festooned with sail, is still a cage", replied Buffy as her snoot faded away.

"I understand….I…I am trying to say…I was wrong to treat you thusly, I..I…a-apologize to ye Miss Summers. I wished not for it to go this far", said Faith.

"You may say the words of sorrowed grace, but it means little until you prove that you ache for redemption. I accept your apology for now but it does not mean I will look kindly on you nor forgive so easily. Now I want to return to my cabin"

"As you wish", said Faith quietly knowing she had performed a great wrong on Buffy but her oath sworn unto herself would bind the Captain's honour until she had earned her captive's forgiveness.

Faith turned her battered body and gave one last look to the bloody corpse nestled in the sand, a still and lifeless body crowded over by his First Mate.

"Angel?", said Darla in a small voice shocked that her Captain had fallen, but in all honesty she held little love for him and now he was dead _**she**_ had, at last, become the de facto leader of The Wolfram.

"Now!", called Lilah setting in motion the last plan of Angelus, in case he fell he would not go down alone.

Faith looked up as she saw a glint of light from the trees and an arm pull back.

"No!", Faith shouted as she leapt into the air in front of Buffy and fell back on the blonde lady with an undignified slump, the Captain's back pressed into Buffy's bosom and grimacing face.

"How dare you give orders to my crew?", yelled Darla to the smirking Lilah.

"What do ye mean? This crew is better served by someone who at least has a working….", the two bickered as the crew of The Slayer rushed round their Captain.

"W-what is this Captain? You try to….oh my", Buffy said as she wriggled out from under Faith's body which, to her surprise, tried not to hold her in place. But once free from under the weight of the Captain, Buffy saw the thin shaft of wood sticking out of Faith's chest, her body tainted with the ugly obscenity of an arrow plunged deep within her flesh. An arrow destined for Buffy.

"Treachery!", cried Xander as both crews drew cutlass.

.

….

.

_**Meanwhile, in the seas off Eluethera**_

"You lost not only your ship _**and**_ my fiancé but good gad man, you lost the King's colours!", roared the newly gazetted Captain Finn, his cabin filled with his commanding officers as well as Captain Snyder who was fresh plucked from the sea after two nights spent on a paltry fishing vessel.

"Sir, I…"

"Stand to, man! You, Sir, are a pitiful excuse for a Captain, Mr Snyder. You should be court martialled and cashiered, ruined to the last for your failings"

"B-but Sir, The Slayer came from nowhere and though we fought bravely they overpowered us and we only surrendered when they threatened the life of Miss Summers. I had no choice"

"The Slayer? Damn that Captain Lehane, she has outlived one life too many methinks. Gentlemen, we must find Miss Summers at all costs and at the same time, we must crush the lance that spears, send a message to every ship under my command that no more shall we bestow mercy or trial on those who sail 'neat the bloodied flag. All buccaneers henceforth to be killed on sight, do you understand?"

"Yes Sir", came the fervent reply of the fresh faced men who now sailed with his fleet.

"As for you Mr Snyder…", began Captain Finn as he looked at the moon faced man whose thatch of hair had long since drifted.

"Sir, we could not fight off The Slayer, we had not the cannon or…"

"I care not for your excuses. Gentlemen if you would leave us, I need to have words with this man that ye should not bear to hear", said the Captain of the HMS Initiative, a sturdy oak built frigate made by Chatham men strong and true, which bobbed in the waves off the ramshackle islands.

The smartly dressed men gave a quick snap of salute and smirked knowing of the dressing down the sunburnt man was about to get. The wooden door shut with a thud and Mr Snyder turned to Mr Finn and they exchanged devious smirks.

"Praise the Lord you found us Sir, no longer could I stand the stench of fish", said the suddenly jovial Snyder as he poured himself a glass of port and, upon the nod of Mr Finn, he poured a glass for the Captain too.

"Yes, good fortune indeed", said Captain Finn as he toyed with his golden lanyards and epaulets.

"How did ye know of our position as the smoke from our ship burned out long ago?"

"I have my ways", said Finn in shadowed meaning.

"I see", replied Mr Snyder as he sat his aching body down in the tan leather chair and sipped his port with glee.

"Good work Septimus", said Captain Finn with a smile he could reveal now the two of them were alone.

"Thankyou Sir, 'twas not hard to set the ship astray but…"

"But you were supposed to deliver my bride to Angelus…. _**n**_**ot** The Slayer"

"'Twas not my fault Sir, but it seems to me that Captain Lehane is long overdue for the noose", scowled the portly Mr Snyder.

"Indeed, but it matters not…as we stick to the plan. In fact, without knowing it, Captain Lehane may have played right into our hands", grinned Captain Finn as he clinked glasses with his man whose duplicity bore deep.

.

….

.

_**Meanwhile, on the Isle Of J'he**_

"We have to get her back or else…..", barked the good doctor as he touched at the arrow standing out from Faith's shoulder.

"Back t'the ship…now!", shouted Spike as he slashed his cutlass at the gaunt man before him.

Steel did clash and fist thunder'd down as the crews of The Slayer and The Wolfram lashed out at each other on the beach as Kennedy and Mr Gunn lifted Faith and carried her with haste to the longboats. Willow held fast to Buffy's hand swearing an oath that she would never let her beloved Mistress go again, they were dragged along in the panic and as shot did crack all around them they fled in terror back with the crew.

"Amy…go now!", yelled Spike once more as she tightened the knotted rope around the neck of one of Angelus' men, the deckhand's eyes bulged and his throat rasped no more as the garrotte wrenched the last of his life from him.

"Fine", she grunted back with definitive bloodlust and ran back for cover.

They tumbled in the longboat as Mr Gunn slid the tompion off the long musket and let shot fly straight and true to tear through the chest of a man who would no longer call The Wolfram his home but call this isle his sun drenched tomb.

"Hold on, Fai. Nearly there", said Xander fearfully as he held his Captain close, though the bleeding was slight the arrow was still the purveyor of a vicious impalement.

"I….I…uurrgghh", Faith groaned in reply as she writhed under pain's vile melody.

The rollocks did clank as they frantically rowed towards their ship, the lock and roll of the oars sounded out with each yank urging them on. With Anya at the tiller Mr Gunn pushed Willow to one side as he grabbed an oar in each hand and flexing all his strength he rowed for all he was worth as they reached for the sanctuary of The Slayer.

"Ye see what she did for ye?", Xander growled at Buffy who had remained silent 'til now. Though he held no genuine animosity towards her, Faith lay mortally wounded in his arms in defence of the blonde girl's chastity and she repaid with naught but contemptuous remark.

"For me?", Buffy said back in high pitched squeal.

"If she had let Angelus buy you then by sundown ye would have been lashed t'the rigging for a good floggin' to break yer spirit before he let every jacktar on his ship have their way with ye"

"You mean….?"

"Aye, once ye were torn and beggin' for death he would have sold you into slavery. There be folks in the south china seas who would pay many a farthing for a white girl, no matter how broke she was", Xander said with an angered sorrow knowing full well his words were true.

Buffy sat in silent shock as the realisation of just what Faith had done for her began to sink in.

"B-but to be fair, she was the one who put me in danger in the first place"

"Aye she made a mistake and she tried to correct it, though she may deny it we can all see the lay of her heart. You have no idea what she gave up to get you back"

"I-I know she bleeds for.."

"No, not that, I mean the purse she paid. You have no idea what that meant for her", said Xander.

Once aboard The Slayer they carried Faith into the cabin and lay her down, the sight of the felled Captain made Dawn shiver in terror as she made her sorrowed sounds, all her ravaged tongue would allow. She grabbed hold of Faith's arm and shook her desperately, as if a mere rousing would better her sister's plight.

"No, let them help her", said Buffy as she grabbed Dawn and pulled her close. The young girl wept and thrashed her arms around as her mouth tore into the cruellest of shapes, but Buffy held her firm as she knew that the good doctor needed room to help Faith.

"'Tis not that deep, you should have worn your breastplate", Oz half joked as he applied a little pressure around the puncture wound.

"Then why is she suffering so?", asked Kennedy with fraught embers enflaming her words.

"I think it be too….wait", said Oz as he breathed with relief seeing that the wound was not as life threatening as once he feared but taking on her shivering pallor his concern rose within his breast.

He pulled the arrow from her chest and she bucked under its slicing blade coming free. He peered curious at it before running its tip over his tongue, his face contorting in disgust and fear as he spat the noxious taste from his mouth.

"What is it, Oz?"

"I…I think it be poison", he said with wobblesome words.

"What kind?", pressed Xander.

"I know nothing of poisons, I cannot tell one from another"

"Give it here", demanded the one eyes pirate as he snatched the arrow from the doctor and he too ran its tip over his tongue before spitting the venomous broth to the wooden floor.

"What is it?", asked Kennedy anxiously as she saw the pained writhing of Faith start to take hold.

"I…..I think it be Mary's Blood"

"Dear God, no", said Mr Gunn as he clasped his Captain's hand as she broke out in a fevered sweat of cold.

"W-what is that? T-t-this Mary's Blood?", asked Willow who had not left Buffy's side even when they all filed into the Captain's cabin.

"An unholy brew most favoured by Angelus, 'tis a venom which burns the blood 'til the victim begs for the mercy of death, it takes days of torturous torment before she will leave this mortal coil"

"Noooghhh", Dawn whined through her savage remnants of a tongue as she cried fiercely, all strength seeming to sap from her as Buffy held her tight.

"It be alright sweetheart, shhh", soothed Buffy as she held the young girl in comfort.

She was most surprised when she felt Dawn twist in her arms and hug her back gripping tightly as she loosed her tears into Buffy's dress, 'twas in this instant that Buffy began to understand Faith's resolve at protecting this child who had been cast such a cruel lot in life.

But as she felt the tremors running through the weeping girl Buffy bit her lip, for how could she tell Dawn that it was to save Buffy that Faith was shot?

"….B…", choked out Faith with a panic swathed echo.

"Try not to talk Cap'n"

"…B…?"

"She's here…. she's safe", said Mr Gunn as rubbed a rough thumb over her brow which burnt with its evil chill.

"Ye can help her right, Oz?", asked Anya.

"Like I said, I know nothing of poisons nor their remedies, all I can give is a touch of laudanum to ease her suffering but…..I can do nothing."

"Well ye better", roared Kennedy as she grabbed by the collar and hauled him to his feet.

"I cannot help her, I'm sorry but there is naught I can do. My schooling did not stretch to unknown poisons of the colonies, 'tis already infected her blood. Within two or three days….. she will die"

"Do not say that!", Kennedy shouted as she blinked away her tears fighting to keep her lip steady.

"Ken, let him go, it will do no good to harm him", said Xander softly belaying his own terrored soul.

"There may be nothing _**he**_ can do…..but there is still hope", replied the First Mate with glinted eye as a plan suddenly formed in her mind.

"Nay, ye do not mean?", said Anya with blanching face.

"Aye, Mr Gunn raise tack and sheets for we set sail"

"B-but…"

"While Faith is….", Kennedy broke not wanting to even mouth the words of possible demise, "..while she is unable to command.…_**I**_ am Captain for now and we sail…go, haul in the larb'd stow and make to!"

"But be you maddened of the head? Think clear Ken", pleaded Anya, "There is a reason _**she**_ lives alone on that island, t-they say she is a caster of bones and Mistress of black alchemy"

"I care not!"

"But it says in Revelations that those who practice the magic arts will be cast into a fiery lake of burning sulphur"

"I see ye know thy scripture well", snorted back Kennedy.

"But what of the price? There is only so many times I can pledge my first born to these far flung heretics", complained Anya as she followed Kennedy out to the deck where the latina pushed Lorne to one side and heaved The Slayer hard to port.

"Stay your words Anya, for we head to Tabula Rasa"

"Where?", asked Oz curiously but his words meant little to Kennedy .

"Tis oft called The Isle Of The Fire Lily….Faith has but one hope…..Tara"

.

.


	8. Chapter 8

_(( Sorry for the delay but I took a wee break, but I'm back now. So thankyou so much for your support, especially the following to add to my ever growing thanks list (see previous chapters for extensive lists) SMColumbia, Dex-El, SpySkater, etherealpuppy, Baskethead, YouDon'tButThanksAnyway, WOLF2390, Amydraw99, DJDarkWolf, GreenDemon95, playgroundarizona, noobsdog, FallenRedeemer, Naomi05, vikifee, DragonWriter17, but special thanks to Fire Tiger Lily. And super special thanks to my Lilly. And apologies any Germans out there. _

_In case anyone is paying attention I have tweaked the previous chapter so Buffy's music box plays Greensleeves. And before any of you ask, Tara will be in the __**next **__chapter once I have done a little more research into extispicy –the art of divining the future through reading the entrails of ritually slaughtered animals))_

_**Aboard The Slayer, in the Captain's cabin**_

SLAP!

Buffy winced as Xander's hand, roughened by years at the pull of hempen line, struck Faith's face jerking her head back as the scorching echo of flesh 'pon flesh rang out through the cabin. But as her cheek swelled with rosy tweaking's it mattered little to the Captain as the welted pain from Xander was trifling compared to the agony coursing through her veins. The poison had latched well to her blood and she had spent the last night and day thrashing in pain on her bed only finding slight relief from the sips of poppy juice Oz had forced into her but now the bottle lay empty and each surge of the venom was bringing her nearer to eternal slumber.

Faith's dilating eyes burned with misanthropic intent as if she was but a slave to lupine enchantment and on the cusp of shedding her last vestiges of humanity as animalistic guttural roars of pain sprang forth from her crack'd full lips. As Xander tried desperately to hold her flailing limbs he fought to hold back his tears and prayers as his beloved Captain, and most trusted of friends, screamed in pain as the Mary's Blood ignited her very bones as if her soul was being cast into sulphurous pits of everlasting damnation.

"Damn you Xander, hold her fast!", shouted Oz as he fumbled with his weathered jar and poured a little laudanum onto a frayed rag, which was once proud colours blessed by the Prince Of Denmark himself, in hope of easing her suffering for a while.

"N-no…..A-A-Angelus…he….he…", Faith said with such a pitiful echo that Buffy could not help but fight back the rogue sob which bloomed within her breast. She had not left Faith's side since they had returned to The Slayer and the young lady of the finest breeding now sat without the elegance of jewel nor the touch of rouge to flare her beauty in the Spartan room.

"He's dead", Xander pressed as he caught one of her thrashing arms using all his strength to keep her from damaging him most greatly.

The Captain looked as haggard as a beggar 'pon the steps of the Old Bailey on a dreary Autumnal eve, ripe of odour and emaciated of body, her eyes drawn and screwed in pain as Mary's Blood scoured through her. Buffy looked on with worried gaze seeing the torment burning from within Faith who winced as if triced to whipping post receiving punishments most cruel.

"N-no….he….h-he said…", Faith forced through her gritted teeth as in her eyes, behind the feral sheen, lay such terror that it chilled Buffy to the core. She could see the pain and fear multiply, its roots picking and tearing at whatever still kept her mind together during these hours of torment.

"He is dead Faith, worry no more about him", Xander said as he cast an eye to the deep scratches on her arms where, in fits of agonized madness, Faith had tried to claw the poison from within her.

"Nay…A-Angelus said…s-said _**he**_ was…c-c coming…..", cried the Captain as she gripped his arm until his skin parted and blood trickled free, a coursing of liquid 'pon skin to match her own tears which dripped down as if a stream on a sun parched plain.

"Nay Cap'n, Angelus was just tryin' to scare ye, one last blow to hurt thee as he knew he was a beaten man. 'Twas one final thrust at yer heart as he breathed his last", he replied as Faith legs kicked wildly casting the damp and stained sheet from the bed, her naked body pouring with chilled sweat as the venom's curse rampaged through her.

"B-b-but _**he**_….", she said with the tone of a begging traitor prostrate before Madame Guillotine.

"Faith, hear me. _**He**_ is dead, slain by yer own hand.", Xander said with firm resolve.

"Nay! I….I have to….argghhhh!", Faith screamed as she flung her body back on to the bed and twisted her body into angles thought not possible for those with intact bones, her glistening naked body writhing into inhuman shapes as she kicked and screamed in agony as the poison once more unleashed its hordes of mangy toothed curs into her blood as she begged for mercy. It crack'd Xander's heart as never before had he seen his Captain beg for anything from anyone, not even from Vice Admiral Wirth back in Santa Cruz when he seemed to have her trumped.

"Dammit Xander, hold her!", shouted Oz once more as he knew how little of the precious laudanum he still had left in his sick berth.

"I'm t-tryin' but…..Christ alive Cap'n, calm yerself", snapped back Xander as he fought to snare but one of her thrashing limbs.

"Miss Summers, damn ye if ye do not help us", ordered Oz as he flicked his exhausted gaze over to Buffy who was still but a heap on the floor after being sent flying by the flailing form of Faith.

"B-but what….how can I…..I mean to say….", Buffy blustered back fearing another torrent of foul curses and cracking bone from the Captain.

"I said help her! Do as I say or ye be useless to me", the Doctor snapped seeing the timid frame of the blonde woman who was now clad in but her long cotton underslip, her dress covered in Faith's blood tinged vomit sat in the corner of the cabin a discarded mass of torn stitching dashed with discolour.

"B-but she is so….if a slap like Xander's could not calm her what can I….", Buffy said not liking the condescending tone of Oz who protected the precious liquid as if it were more valuable than any purse cut from a courtier in Salzberg.

"Miss Summers, do what ye must", he snorted back as he, in essence, told her to leave the glum confines of the cabin.

Buffy, affronted by such a snipe, felt as if she too had felt the back of a hand, the notion that she, as a lady of manners and refinement, was little use outside of the world of balls and recitals. It inflamed her and she hauled herself to her bare feet and bounded over to the pained Captain who had sat bolt upright as she tried to ease the burning deep within her trying not to succumb once more to the wretched sluicing of her bowels.

"Faith", said Buffy as she tried to take a hand to offer her comfort but the Captain's shaking limbs snatched free as Buffy tried hard not to pay heed to the prone and naked figure sweating before her under a mesh of scars and hitherto unknown tattoos. Hazel eyes which wetted with tears unshed drew down the body of Faith taking in the savage scar of deepest vermillion on her stomach until her gaze snared on the sickle shaped birthmark blemishing Faith's thigh, a deep red swish that seemed to point towards her shaven mound where the trickle of menses had dried.

"Just grab her and ow…..damn yer misers", cried Xander as Faith's knee swung up and gave him an ample crack o' the noggin, "She suffers like this so ye wouldn't, Miss Summers. Do ye not wish to make amends?"

"Faith!", yelled Buffy bolstered by Xander's accusing words making the pirate snap her tormented gaze towards the blonde woman.

Buffy breathed heavy making the stitching on her décolletage strain 'neath her glorious bosom before lunging at the weeping buccaneer, her lips pressed to Faith's as the Captain's inner rage seemed to douse in an instant, the succulence of moistened lips pressing into each other fuzzed the senses of the pirate as Buffy leaned further as if she had great acquaintance with Faith. Her tongue slithered along the paper thin cuts where Faith had bitten her lips in agony but Buffy paid little heed as she felt the tongue of the rogue freebooter slide, albeit with hesitation, around her own as their breath staggered then synchronized and lips sealed as if captured in marble effigy.

As Buffy pulled away she watched the agonized eyes of Faith and there, as if for a moment, they felt as if they be lovers cross'd by the most wick'd of stars. The Captain stared on with unbounded eyes as she saw, for the first time, the real Buffy. Not the haughty irritance she would have those of a lesser caste believe she was but a woman whose inner strength was as yet untested, a woman who would defile her honour in order to help out scurrilous cur who was wanted in rusting shackles by every gaol in the Caribbean. But as the sliver of time passed Faith could see just the faintest glimmer of a smile tug at Buffy's lips as she backed away suddenly embarrassed by present company and her actions of harlot's qualm.

"Make way", said the Doctor as he pressed a rag dampened with his oils to Faith's face, her lungs drawing the enrichened vapours deep into her body as she, in an instant, succumbed once more to the pain swelling within her, but after a moment her thrashing lulled and her body stilled.

As the bountiful bosom of Faith rose and fell, as if echoing the waves lapping their hull, the callous-by-repute pirate sank back into the dampen bed and breathed easier though Xander feared just how far she could be pushed, just what toll the poison would take and, even if by God's fair grace she survived, just how much of the dreaded buccaneer would remain.

As Xander watched on he caught his grimace before it flourished fully for he had not seen Faith sweat like this since their ill-fated journey deep into the Amazon to plunder the fabled lost mines of Ampata, Queen of the eighth dynasty. 'Twas a hellacious journey of fool's promise where starvation and disease did follow their every drudging step not to mention the Dupont de Leuguilles who pursued them relentless with three brigades of battle weary troops intent on dragging every last pirate before the gallows. 'Twas on this deadly trek where mutiny did rise it's ugly head after the sixth week, the brothers Epps' headless bodies still lay somewhere near the base of Mount Machida to be feasted upon by fire ants and fanged predators courtesy of Faith's rage fuelled blade showing all who still held the lingers of mutiny 'pon their lips that their disloyalty would be silenced in a merciless welter of bloodshed.

"Miss Summers….why did you…..erm…", spluttered the good Doctor by way of a vague apology as he covered Faith's nakedness with a fresh sheet to hold what little dignity she had left.

"I…I…..do not…..it seemed to be the only recourse left, slapping her did little but fuel her pain so comfort was the notion I thought of. You said to do what I must", she said with flustered meter.

"Do what you _**must**_, not what you _**desire**_", smiled Oz as he met Buffy's words head on.

"W-what do ye mean by that?", she accused with a look of feigned innocence.

"I understand such desperate measures to ease both your guilt and her suffering…..but why did you linger 'pon her lips? I thought the very notion of lady's attentions abhorred ye?", Oz said with his heavy set stubble creating a vagabonds frame to his smirk.

"I…I…", Buffy said with feeble retort as her cheeks flourished with a fervent blush, "I….I…'tis my fault she is in such pain, I…I just wanted to soothe her suffering is all…nothing more"

"Aye, I see", Oz yawned back before touching a dash of snuff to his nose, breathing the furious powder deep.

"Doctor, you need some rest. You have been by her side for near five and twenty hours", said Buffy in gentle tone swerving the converse away, her own body rested lightly by the few hours' sleep she had forced upon herself when the Captain was slumbering 'neath opiates veil. During this time Faith's hand was held tenderly by Lorne as he sung sweetly to her during these brief periods of respite from the torture which threatened to cleave her in twain.

"Nay, I-I have to stay. She is my Captain and my responsibility", replied Oz as he rubbed his aching eyes.

"It will do her no good if you exhaust yourself to the point where mistakes are made. Her life is in your hands until we reach this Isle, but your fatigue will hinder more than help"

"But she…"

"Rest Sir, I shall sit with her", said Buffy as she smoothed her dress down and perched once more on the end of the bed taking the Captain's quivering palm into her own.

"Aye, mayhaps I shall rest for an hour or two. She should sleep easy once the effects take her, if she should take a turn for the worse then call for me"

"B-but is she alright? I mean, surely the poison will leave her once…", asked Buffy

"Nay Miss, every leech I have tried has supped 'pon her blood and died within the minute. There is no cure to what ails her, all I can do is ease her pain for a while. Too much laudanum will surely kill her as much as the venom. She is but mortal no matter what the troubadours of the taverns and gaols may say, she may have the will of a Goddess and the spirit of a legend but ….human weakness, it ne'er goes away", said Oz with mournful eyes as he watched his Captain stir a little.

"S-she really doth suffer so….a suffering that was meant for me. Doctor, just tell me how to make it better", said Buffy with guilt to act as buttress to her simple words.

"..B….?", breathed Faith through half slitted eyes as her body wallowed in the onset of its respite from the agonies which had befallen her.

"I'm here Faith, shhh, just rest", said Buffy softly as she pulled her sheets a little higher up the body of the Captain, though the sheets be clean the bed on which Faith lay was soaked with sweat and clasped in the film of urine where Faith, during her agonized writhing, lost control of her senses and body. Buffy took a dampened rag and held it to Faith's brow which sizzled 'neath the poison's will to cool the molten pressure which would surely resurface in mere hours.

"Miss Summers, when Faith falls asleep, which should not be long now, massage the wound as we must keep it open or else the venom will be sealed 'neath her skin hence I have not touched hot brand t'her. I shall fetch some maggots to help clean her rotted flesh"

"Urgh, how foul", sniffed Buffy still retaining a measure of her haughty façade.

"Tis the best way", he shrugged in humble reply.

"..B…?"

"I am here, Captain, Ease yourself", said Buffy as she felt Faith's eyes wash over hers.

"….B…..ye be so…p-pretty…like an angel. B-be ye my angel?", slurred Faith as the rush of narcosis set in. But within the maelstrom of her plagued mind no truths could stay hidden, no honesty could veil itself and make Faith's tongue twist with words she wanted not to feel.

"I….oh..", blushed Buffy furiously at the words aired but could not stop the smile from curling her lips, even though this vicious bounder of the seas lay helpless before her Buffy could not help but think how even the roughest of diamonds is flawed in its beauty.

"Aye….y-ye be my angel….ye will save me…..love shalt set m-me free….love f-for my angel", the Captain spoke in tainted slant.

"I….wh-what…I….."

"A delirium has set in, Miss Summers; it shall pass soon into calm. Pay no heed to her words for they be fevered", said Oz, ever the defender of his Captain.

"Oh", replied Buffy with a disappointed tone which shocked her to feel, for she was starting to no longer trust her own heart, "With such befuddlement she should be careful not to be sent to the attic", she mused aloud.

"I beg your pardon?", asked the Doctor in curious guise.

"Oh sorry, but back in England whenever one of we girls said things out of turn, if we truly spoke as if our heads were of the maddened idea of a Lady speaking freely, Mr Travers would send us to the attic where we would sit and ponder our wrongs in the darkness, to sit in penitent misery", said Buffy in shades above a saddened whisper.

"Ach, he sounds like a cruel man who needs to hear the snap o' the lash", scoffed Xander as he pulled taut his fraying monkey jacket whose brassed buttons had dulled much.

"I…I think he…nay, he is….nevermind. W-what should I do, I wish to help Faith but I…"

"Why not read to her, she hath books beneath her bed", confessed Xander warily.

"Read to her? What books?", asked Oz with surprised glance to eddy up his sagging wearied face.

"I shall tell you o'er a drink, but swear your silence on it or else Faith will have my codlings for a toy", the one eyed Cox'n said back only half joking fearing to glimpse the temper of his Captain once she was restored to office. But as he watched the dewy features of Faith he knew with the hours slipping past they would be pressed hard to traverse the waters in time, with Navy and rival pirates both finding sport in hunting The Slayer nothing could stand in their way or else funereal tones would soon be sounded.

"Aye, libations would be mos' welcome", said the Doctor much needing a tot of grog as soon he feared the poison would return with a lethal barrage and once more he would be called upon to cage such a vile beast.

"How ye feelin' skipper?", asked Xander as he looked down upon Faith, his one eye danced with relief though his nose still sucked in the fetid air of the cabin, a foul stench as if pluming from the toil of workhouse children. A smell that enveloped his entire hate ridden upbringing until the day when he met Father Caleb and his whole world changed.

"F-five by five, but d-don't ye be chisellin' that apple j-just yet", Faith tried to smile, for an apple carved into the flush of a tombstone, no matter how ornate, was the sign for sin.

"Most amusin' but I hope ye don't be thinking ye can lay there all day, remember – what be the first rule of being a pirate", said Xander making merry.

"D-don't die", said back Faith with the ghost of a smile.

"Exactly, but I shall leave ye to make some rest. Oz, come and take in some air then try to catch a touch o' kip. Miss Summers, I will fetch ye a little food as I bet ye be starvin' by now", said Xander as he helped the Doctor from the cabin and stepped out into the fresh breeze which grew steadily as The Slayer made its furious way to Tabula Rasa.

In the sudden silence of the cabin Buffy pushed stray matted hairs from the pirates face as she saw the initial surge of laudanum crack and give way. Faith's eyes pushed open further as she rode the crest of the siege of drugs and eased into calmer waters of near lucidity as she stared up the soft spoken blonde who flashed a smile of warming welcome.

"Your crew are certainly loyal to thee Captain", said Buffy with a hint of jealousy which sprung from somewhere she knew not.

"Mmmm_… fideles usque…. ad m-mortem_", breathed out the brunette as Buffy's eyes shot open wide upon hearing such archaic words.

"'_Faith when we die'_?"

"'_Faithful… even unto d-death'_", corrected the pirate with a strained smile of half measures.

"B-but how do ye…"

Buffy's question was cut off by a ferocious coughing fit tearing through the dread buccaneer, her face flushing as she fought for the simple mercy of breath. With hacking lungs Faith coughed wretchedly until small droplets of blood spilled forth in a graceless arc to stain her chin, her breast ached with sullen thudding as she battled the fluid slowly drowning her as Buffy held a dented tin cup of water to Faith's lips and gently slid one hand behind the brunettes head to help her crane her neck to drink.

"There we go…no, not too much", said Buffy fearing herself sounding too much like her one time Governess she assumed had passed through the pearly gates long ago.

Faith slumped back onto the fluffed pillow as Buffy, feeling somewhat guilty and strangely maternal in this moment, wiped the blood from the pirates chin and let Faith steady her bosom for a minute before breaking the silence with the one question which had turned her mind all night and day.

"Faith", said Buffy with tender tone, "Faith….why did you come for me? Why….why did ye save me from your own commands?"

"H-have ye -ever… made a m-mistake that….. cost….. ye d-dearly, Miss Summers?", Faith forced out as her eyes tried to focus but she was awash in opiate tides.

Buffy blanched as she recalled the shouts of damnation from Mr Merrick as he fought to the save the life which Buffy had close to snuffed out with her anger. The Lady knew well of mistakes and though she had taken the cowards way out, hidden from making reparations to soul and body, she knew how she paid for her mistake every time she spied a blade or closed her eyes at night for the shadows of bloodied regret would always stalk her.

"I…indeed I have, but why now? What made ye risk all to…."

"A…..a father's l-love….be a most….p-p-precious thing….I could not take t-that from thee", Faith wheezed out as her body still tingled with pain's rhythm's.

"I do not understand", said Buffy with crooked brow.

"L-look 'neath my b-bed…..'tis yours"

Buffy withdrew her hand from Faith's and bent down by the bed and with a slight gasp pulled free well-worn and much loved copies of Chaucer, Sun Tzu and Lovelace. Her eyes widened in fierce shock as this facet of the dread pirate was revealed to her, such litanies and literature Buffy felt was high above the station of mere rogue o' the waves, more accustomed to be shelved in the libraries of the landed gentry not 'neath the cot of a simple buccaneer. Buffy was well acquainted with these tomes and wondered why such books lay in this cabin for surely such a murderous fiend could not find pleasure in these words. But resting by these battered books, which were stained by the spill of rum and the smear of powder, lay a sight she ne'er thought she would spy again.

"M-my music box! But how….when did…..", Buffy gasped as she felt her eyes sting with tears of joy pulling the wooden box into her dainty hands.

"Aye….we took it afore s-setting light to yer ship…..I-I were goin' to gift it to ye tonight…..i-its tune….it is…"

Buffy looked at the engraving with tears fresh pooling for she had given up hope of ever seeing it again. Touching the words etched in fading bronze she mouthed them aloud "_My dearest Buffy, a father's heart be a loving place, where daughters will always have a home"._ She lifted the lid and the dulcet chimes rang out singing Greensleeves which, to her surprise, made Faith visibly relax into the serenity, the song soothing her aching further.

"I...I know not what to say. First you barter with me…. and then buy me and now….", said Buffy as the spinning of her mind ran with quickening pace.

"I do n-not own ye…ye be f-free and I mean not by my pardon… you have always b-b-been free….. not by being on board my ship….. I mean y-your heart…..your mind is yours. No-one can own another save f-for the…. will of their own heart, Miss Summers"

"Y-you can call me B…i-if you like", said Buffy as she closed the cherished box, the only possession she had left from her father, and placed it by her side on the bed as such confusion frothed along the wales of her heart.

"I thought…. yeeeee liked it nort….B?", said Faith as her tongue began to drawl, her eyes misting and her gaze loosening as the vapours worked into her fully.

"I...I mind it not so much", confessed Buffy with a smile borne of shy giddiness.

"I…ye be soooo….", drawled Faith as exhaustion reigned upon her body, snaring the rest before the tempest of pain roared its head once more.

"Ye be so what? Faith", said Buffy taking the Captain's hand trying to stave off her sleep for a moment longer, "Faith, what do you wish to say?"

"Ye b-be..…sooo pretty, I…I would do anythin' to…win…yer heart", slurred Faith as sleep took her over with the vapours unbridling the tongue of the Captain one last time before she slumbered well.

Buffy's mouth fell open, though she had become aware of Faith's feelings, feelings more than lust or desire; she had not thought to hear them out loud. For Buffy knew these were not the poppycocked ramblings of a well foxed mind as Faith's words had a preachers solemnity riding upon them, here in this moment she had heard the scurrilous pirate speak the twang of her heart, though not florid in style or silken in prose, they still unfurled like the proud colours of a legion on a bright morn.

"Sleep well…my Captain", smiled Buffy softly as she watched Faith's body hush from the throes of torment, the gentle Lady leant forward and lay a tender kiss to the Captain's burning forehead.

Buffy smiled strangely as she leafed clumsily through the pages of what she perceived as a well-loved tome and stopped at a page bent back on itself and she felt more confused than ever as she read the words of Lovelace aloud to the gaunt buccaneer.

'_If I have freedom in my love, _

_And in my soul am free;_

_Angels alone, that soar above,_

_Know not such liberty'_

As Buffy read the poems gilded by sweetened notion she spied not her hand maiden sneak past the crack'd windows of the cabin and clamber up aft to the isolation of the poop deck.

"K-Kennedy?", said Willow with tentative pace to her words as she approached the buccaneer who had not taken fodder nor rest since she took command of the vessel, her eyes reddened with the lash of salt laden breeze.

"What?", she snapped back as, for the first time in hours, Kennedy tore her glare from the horizon which she spied with hateful glare for it would not approach sooner, no matter how much canvas she ordered let fly.

"I…oh sorry…I….", said the red-faced maid who played nervously with her fingers unused to going so long without polishing the silverware or darning her Mistress' bloomers.

"Nay", sighed Kennedy as she hated the way how just the soft eyes of Willow could enslave her so, "I apologize to thee, m'Lady, I meant not to share my anger with ye"

"It be f-fine, I…was…I mean I w-was just…er…", said the maid with fretful poise as she danced from foot to foot as if perched upon hot coals, her grey dress of rough calico with cloth covered buttons was fastened all the way to the high collar which hid most all of her pale skin.

"What do ye mean to say, Willow?"

"I….I mean with Miss Buffy tending to your Captain….I have had time to think…and…I…."

"Say it Willow, ye know I will not judge ye harsh"

"W-why did ye bid so for Miss Buffy? D-did ye do it to impress me? T-to show how you could buy my favour?", asked Willow scared of what truths she may not want to hear.

"Nay, I told ye I would ne'er take such liberties with ye"

"Then why did you bid thusly?"

"I...I did it….. for I cannot bear to see your sorrow", replied Kennedy with abashed face as she felt the scourge of a blush fill her skin with rouged giftings.

"Oh….I….thankyou", said back the maid as the fluttering in her innards returned, whenever she was faced with the tender side of Kennedy she felt this strange urging from deep within her. An unsettling surge which both infuriated and confused her as Willow knew not what such an emotion meant.

"Ye be mos' welcome, m'Laaaaadyyy", the pirate said around a wide yawn.

"Kennedy, you have been out here for nigh on a day and night at the helm, ye should rest", said the maid warmly as her hair, once near the colour of cock's comb but dulled in recent days, whipped around her sweet face in the favourable winds.

"Nay, not 'til the Isle rests 'neath our hull", snapped back Kennedy wiping the exhaustion from her eyes and gripping the wooden wheel with her palms which were blistered and raw.

"The horizon will come no quicker if ye will it so, Mr Gunn said it be still another day's sail afore we reach it. So come and share bread with me….please?", said Willow feeling strange that she should worry so about the welfare of this brigand who had slaughtered her way through the Caribbean with nary an afterthought but here, within the soft glare of a timid maid, she felt herself humbled to be within her presence.

"I…I...very well, Devon take the helm"

"Aye, aye, Ken", replied the man whose kerchief flapped in the strengthening wind.

"Come t'the galley, I be sure Andrew has a pot on", smiled Kennedy trying hard to think of the joy of the moment and not the despair which brought such tender affectations from the maid.

"You worry about the Captain?", asked Willow with a blush as, without thinking, she reached for Kennedy's raw hands and turned them over until she saw the ripped flesh on Kennedy's palms making her gasp at such barbarities enforced upon oneself purely at the will of her own desperate needs. The maid instinctively drew her plain handkerchief from her lace rimmed cuff, much repaired by candlelight in her tiny room back in London, and wetted it with her tongue before gently sliding the moist cloth across the ravages of skin. Kennedy tried not to draw sharpened breath across her teeth, though it stung lightly, but for the soft caress of a beauty such as Willow the vicious scally would suffer most horrendous of torments if it would yield such rewards as this.

"Aye, she be more than just skipper to me. She be my friend, my sister in all but name, she be…", trailed off Kennedy as she breathed deeply to keep her tears at bay for now she was Captain she had to set an example to the men whose shoulders now slung low and their heads, for the most part, willingly free of the flow of rum.

"I…I fear I may have judged your Captain most harshly, though she was most wick'd to Miss Buffy I can see how much she has given to redeem herself, how much she suffers to make amends. I….I should make my peace with her"

"Aye, ye should. Ye have no idea of Faith's compassion…..nor her true rage", replied the latina who took Willow's hand without shyness and traced delicate circles on the back of the maid's hand with her well splintered thumb.

"Tell me of her"

"Well….", started Kennedy with a look a trifle ominous, "The Tangiers incident, though oft sung about by toothless minstrels, well the truth is somethin' far more sinister and deadly. Many friends died that day….. including Cap'n Wilkins"

"Gadzooks, it sounds most fearsome a tale. Will it be of great length?"

"Aye, we should sit a while as I tell it, for it be a rollickin' yarn full of gypsy bloodlust, rattlin' sabres an' the death of innocence, anyway….one day when the seas were calm and enemy still many leagues away we sailed into…."

Kennedy broke into the tale as they crossed down to the main deck and sat on the gratings by the mizzen mast well notched by the rain of grape and the careless swing of cutlass, the pirates tan wiskit jingling with guineas and spare shot as she stretched her aching arms aloft casting her shadow across the skewering coamings and battle raped timbers.

As Kennedy began her story she momentarily broke off to smile as Xander touched the flopping brim of his simple castor'd hat, though it were tattered he still wore it with the pride of an erudite man. The one eyed man crossed the foredeck and smiled back as he watched his well tattooed friend finally allowing the defences of her heart be broached, to let herself be ruled by a mind of tenderness rather than the lust of rampant loins.

"Ye think ve should rouse Dawn?", asked the silken throated Lorne who followed Xander's path.

"Nay, she were up all night and only cried herself t'sleep in the wee hours. She be safe enough in the garrets with Wesley", replied Xander as he carried with him a spread of fruit and hardtack.

"Aye. Ye think she fears the vurst?"

"Aye, though I told her we do all we can she believes us not, but it does no good to let her see Faith suffer so much. Dawn has seen too much pain as it is", Xander sighed as he quietly opened the oft repaired door to the Captain's cabin and stole away inside with assassin's stealth, but once inside the oaken oubliette his mouth fell open and his words spilled freely.

"Er, Miss Summers…I thought Oz asked ye to massage the wound…..ye be about six inches south of that", said Xander trying to hide his bedevilling smirk as Lorne crossed behind him, the Germanic man's eyes flitted with sadness at seeing his Captain ailing so.

Buffy stared back curiously before dropping her eyes to her hand far from the gaping wound, her soft hands were kneading the creamy flesh of the ailing brunette's breast as Faith's nipples, as rigid as British resolve, swelled under the idle flick of her thumb,

"I….oh", Buffy said in shock as she pulled her hand away quickly and flushed crimson with embarrassment's gift for she had slipped well past the small but gaping hollow where sinew and muscle were torn and twisted.

"Ye should be careful with your hands Miss Summers as ye vould not be ze first to pay a terrible price vor touching Faith against her wish", said Lorne in his broken tongue as Buffy shrank away.

"W-what do you mean, Sir?"

"Ven Faith was still a cabin girl barely ein year aboard Das Ascension, vell one day she had to fetch the vittles from the hold ven the First Mate tried to touch her in places only a wedded man should touch a lady. She fought back but Herr Finch's knuckles rapped her jaw vell as he dropped his breeches", said Lorne with such pain and hatred pirouetting in his eyes.

"Dear God, w-what did she do?", gasped Buffy as she watched Xander put the simple platter of fodder by her on the bed.

"Faith? She vere but eleven years or so unt had little strength to fight him off though she tried, 'twas by dumb luck that Kapitan Vilkins came down to check on her unt found Herr Finch pushing her down 'pon the sacks of grain. The Kapitan pulled him off unt Faith scampered behind him in fear unt shame, holding tight to the man she considered her Papa, without a word Kapitan Vilkins shot Herr Finch through the heart unt threw his body overboard without the fleeting grace of a prayer, ne'er to speak o' him again"

"My goodness, s-she meant that much to him?"

"Aye, Kapitan Vilkins thought of her zo high that he killed his most trusted friend unt ally without a second thought.", said the Prussian man as he perched on the edge of Faith's bed and took her chilling hand into his.

"So ye can only imagine the wrath of Faith when we found out what happened to Dawn, as much as I want vengeance t'be served on 'em I do wish that her attackers be already with Davey Jones for if we ever find 'em they will find new definitions for pain and suffering", added Xander with merciful tone.

"Ja, they will regret the day vell", snarled Lorne with an anger he reserved mainly for those who fought 'neath the flap of the tricolore.

"She really be five-by five", said Xander as he slipped a finger under his patch to scratch his much sealed wound.

"Meaning what?", asked Buffy.

"Oh, 'tis a jest of hers. Five by five be the dimensions of her cell in Nassau gaol, she near lost all that day so when it seems like all hope it lost, she will say all is five by five."

"And that is a jest? I find little akin to humour in it"

"Then ye should look a little deeper", replied Xander as he poured a tot of the fine bumboo that his Captain reserved for special occasions and sank it swift.

"Hold there, you say Faith was a cabin girl? I find that hard to imagine", said Buffy trying hard not to think of the blood spilt to save Faith's shame, but who could fault a man for protecting his child in such a vigorous and deadly manner.

"Do ye really think she became Cap'n overnight? Nay, for years she scrubbed the decks, washed the dishes and made sure Mr Wilkins' cup ne'er ran short of wine. She worked hard and worked long an' soon enough she was raiding ships and fightin' to the death, once she was raised to Bo'Sun it gave her a sense of responsibility and belongin' even if it were to a motley crew of vagabonds and ne'er-do-wells. But she had this gift, as if bestowed on her by a higher power, a calling ye might say, she could sense the waves and ride their whim as if she had always been born with the lilt o' the sea 'neath her tiller, right Lorne?", said Xander recalling the tales he had been told often by the dim light of the lanterns when taking rum during the watch.

"Ja, tis true"

"You have known her that long?", asked the blonde Lady softly to the Germanic man whose reticence was floundering in the wake of seeing his Captain's pain.

"Ja, I vos once serving the Margrave of Moravia, he vos also Grand Duke of Carniola, Styria and Bukowina. A grand man unt when he called we answered…with blood spilt on the plains of Silesia. A terrible battle vere most of my comrades perished on spear of the damn'd cavalry o' King Louis, ven night fell and the scavengers came in to strip the dead of their possessions dat vos ven I fled. Ne'er again did I want to see mein homeland bathed in such horror zo I went to sea and joined vith Kapitan Vilkins, a finer man I never did meet. I have votched over Faith for zo many years that I will gladly shed all mein blood to….", Lorne broke off before his tears sprang forth to trail down his cheeks which bore vicious grey ravines of scars from battle long forgotten.

"I have gravely mistaken my thoughts of her have I not?", said Buffy sadly with a jut of the lip,"Tis not my fault I know her only by deed told through hearsay and novella's passages"

"Ach, you pout like Faith ven Kapitan Vilkins made her do her Latin lessons", chuckled Lorne recalling the bonding 'tween father and daughter.

"Huh? Faith….huh?", said Buffy with a slanting look of shock now understanding the quotation which spilled forth from Faith earlier.

"Ja, Latin, math, history, he made her do zem all when all she wanted vos to practice her swordplay or fire up ze cannon"

"I really know nothing about who she is do I? Just who this Faith is behind the myth of Captain Lehane, is it all falsehoods and poets creation?", questioned Buffy.

"Not entirely, she is still the finest shipsman in these waters and, as you have seen, she makes no qualms o'er taking life of a foe", said Xander as quietly Lorne began to hum the tune of Greensleeves, the soft notes lilting from his lips as the wooden room filled with dulcet tones.

"Sir, I must ask, why doth this song cause her such comfort?", asked Buffy

"Once she caught ze dread of typhus unt came near death", said Lorne breaking off from song, "Kapitan Vilkins would not leave her side despite its contagion, her father vere truly a man of stout constitution unt bore not the ravages of disease. As Faith fought for each breath and shivered cold he would hold her hand unt mop her brow when singing that tune. It holds memories of such love that it swells her heart when she hears it"

"She has faced death often and ne'er baulked from its clutches, she fears not the reaper", said Xander proudly.

"She really fears no flag nor gallows nor Lucifer's fiery embrace?", asked Buffy shocked that a soul such as Faith's, secret in its tenderness, could not pall before judgement.

"Faith feels the Davies o'er nothing, she finds no dread in death and no matter how many cannon or bloodthirsty foe she faces Faith will ne'er back down", said the one eyed pirate as a gruff leonine rumble did spill from his throat, his eye reddened and his knuckles crack'd with a damnable echo in the sudden quiet of the cabin.

"B-but I saw fear in her eyes when she spoke about how _**he**_ was coming for her, just who is this _**he**_ and why does she fear him so? If she fears not death then why should one man fill her with such terrors?"

"I-I know not what ye mean", replied the pirate whose voice retreated with a sudden fearful piety like a bull who was recently polled.

"Yes you do, you talked her words of comfort in defeat. Tell me Sir, who is this man she fears….or should I ask her myself?", pressed Buffy her inquisitory nature ever the shadow to her life.

"Nay!", snapped Xander,"She needs not to hear of it, but…but this man…..'tis no man but a monster. A creature of such ungodliness that 'tis said that Be'elzebub himself would not allow him entry t'the underworld for fear he would take over, 'tis a name that even the most dreaded of pirate fears to utter"

"Who is it that instils such terror in Faith?"

Xander's face did blanch to polar white as he recalled the horrors witnessed with his own eye, the sin bestowed by the former Cardinal of The Inquisition, he forced his mouth open and shivered as but one word did slip free.

"Kakistos"

_**Meanwhile, in the Royal Navy stronghold of Port Swaffham**_

"Will there be anything else, Ma'am?", asked Kendra as she sat the steaming cup of tea down on the exquisite dresser which once sat proudly in the halls of Balmoral but now lay in the Governor's mansion which was filled by the finest art that Joyce had gathered over the years.

"No, thank you Kendra. I have much to do, you may return to your duties", sighed Joyce as she stared at the monument of parchment before her.

"Yes Ma'am", the serving girl said and bobbed a small curtsy before backing towards the door.

"Oh Kendra?"

"Yes Ma'am?"

"Can you ask cook to prepare cake for this afternoon as Lady DeWitt shall be coming for high tea", said Joyce softly.

Joyce did verily enjoy the fine company of Lady Adelle DeWitt, a woman of exquisite manners and educated tongue but she did bear the heaviest of hearts for, despite her stern shell, inside she was but a broken woman who did wallow in sorrow's rich harvest.

The lingering recall of how her husband and offspring, still fresh to suckle from her teat, were put to pirates blade many years earlier would haunt Lady DeWitt always and after all this time her hope of ever seeing those innocent eyes again had dwindled until she could take no more and fled to spend her days in shadowed existence on the island of Port Swaffham far removed from society's grace. She was despairingly alone and her heart would ne'er repair, no prayer or supplication before any altar could heal such wounds, her friendship with the Summers' was all that kept her mind from succumbing to the tempt of following Ophelia's damn'd example.

"Yes Ma'am", the girl who, unlike others of her kin, bore no scars from shackles or the lash, replied before leaving her Mistress alone in the study.

Joyce smiled at the girl as she left, though their fields were tilled by many a negro the grieving widow, who oft donned blackened gown now, cared not for the cruelty bestowed in the ramshackle hovels of her property. But 'twas the way of the world and both law and Pope condoned such treatment, and she was a woman who obeyed both King and church alike and thus held her tongue.

As the morning sun spread throughout her late husband's study Joyce felt the deep stirrings of fatigue for though Captain Finn had set sail and ordered the remaining ships in the fleet to scour every inch of the Caribbean Joyce would know no satiety until Buffy was safely in her arms once more. In her nightly prayers the widow, whose once rich beauty had sallowed only slightly with the passing of years, included their sweet and timid serving girl to be returned to the bosom as well for Joyce knew of the hardy bond between Willow and her Mistress.

Joyce sipped at the sweetened brew, her lips leaving the smallest arc of red, before setting the fine china cup down, her eyes catching on the work of embroidery sitting on the far wall, stitched by Buffy herself in Sunday School many years earlier which read _'But let us, who are of the day, be sober, and put on the breastplate of Faith and Love, and for a helmet, the hope of salvation – Thessalonians, chapter four, verse eleven'_

A small smile crack'd Joyce's mask of longing and she knew to rid her mind of anxieties she would have to, at last, go through her husband's personal effects before she fell to her family's curse and drowned herself in the wake of liquor much like both her mother and father had. The towers of parchment rose high before her clouded with the thin dust which settled all through the house, such was the price of living in the colonies, the cleaning of which harangued Kendra from morning 'til dusk but Henry Summers was almost most kind to her during the broiling summer months and let such duties be passed over.

Looking for a fresh quill Joyce pulled open a drawer on Henry's desk but it slipped free of its brass holdings and crashed to the floor sending blotting paper and jars of ink across the fading Persian rug. She sighed heavily and set about collecting the scattered effects but there, caught 'tween the cracks of the mort in the drawer, lay a letter penned by the very quill of Henry bearing the simple name 'Joyce'.

She gasped seeing the slanting words that only her late husband could scrawl in his unique penmanship; her fingers, which she swore would always bear their wedding ring, ran over the curling letters and noticed the sudden patter of her tears falling onto ink blurring the loops in her name.

Joyce wiped her tears away and with quick determination she crack'd open the letter. The wax seal still bearing the crest of his family courtesy of his ring of office, the ring which Joyce surmised was in the pocket of a Spanish cur who murdered him, crack'd and the parchment unfolded. Her failing eyesight made her squint even in the bright of the study and as her eyes flitted across each word her heart peaked and troughed as they bit into her.

'_My beloved Joyce,_

_If you are reading this then I have encountered a fate which has unfairly torn me from you. I am, as you know, not a man of well fashioned words but please believe me that even as we enter the latter of our years together I still love you more each day. Everytime I see thy smile, every time I see thine eyes I fall for you all over again, you are the sun and the stars to me and I shall always love you._

_That is why it wounds me so to make confession unto thee, I love Buffy and you more than I can ever say but I have a secret which, though I could not reveal in life, I wish to unburden myself in death._

_We have a position of respect in society and any scandal, though I feared not it's barbs, would hurt thee so deep I ne'er want to see you suffer. I have kept this hidden for so long but you need to know the truth…Buffy is not my only daughter._

_I have ne'er wished to hurt you with this knowledge but now I am gone you are all this girl has, though she does not know she is of my loins. Many years ago I was most tapered of the mind and did lie with a girl and she birthed unto us a daughter, though her mother be rested in her grave these many years I still love my child and though I could not reveal my love for her I showed my kindness as oft I could to someone in such a lowly position. I could not bear to part with her so that is why I kept her on as a serving girl, please my darling Joyce, I beg of thee, no matter how much these words may wound you, do not blame her for my mistakes for I was a victim of my own lustings._

_She is my daughter, she is of my blood and though you may now curse my very name, please find it in your heart to bless this poor girl with the family she has. I love my darling Buffy more than mere words could ever harness but I love my other child too. You know her well for her name is….."_

As Joyce's heart wept at this revelation, the name stung her very tongue not able to utter it aloud, as she slumped forward in a torrent of woe she knocked her tea cup forth and it crashed to the marble floor as her mind fractured at Henry's admission.

"My… oh Hank. You cast y-yourself as martyr to your own desiring's, h-how could you betray me so? You utter swine of….", Joyce cried aloud as her tear struck eyes tore free of the parchment and out of the window.

Her breath choked within her as there, in the courtyard beating the carpet, stood Kendra talking gaily to her friend Olivia who leant heavily on her simple wooden crutch as she tried to smile through her deep scars. She had recovered well from the beating she received from plantation foreman Mr Thurman who, breaking from his quiet and temperate character, had near killed Olivia when he tried to force his intentions upon her. When Henry had discovered the brutish man's crimes, though such actions were commonplace in other such lands, he had dismissed the young man and driven him from Port Swaffham and declared that henceforth all his property should ne'er be treated in so callous a manner.

"Oh my, w-what if this daughter you speak of….w-what I she is not your only child born into servitude?", Joyce gasped loudly as her sobs choked from within, "Hank, h-how…how could…."

"Ma'am, be there something wrong?", came the deep voice from behind her starling Joyce.

"N-no…I…I mean….yes. Eveything be fine, thankyou Theodore", the Lady of the house replied to her late husband's butler as she quickly rubbed at her eyes wishing not to show the bleeding of her heart to mere commoners.

"If there be anything I can help with, Ma'am. Please let me know", said the tall man who could well see his Mistress' pain for though he was devout to feudal spirits he would do much to take her in his arms and allow her grief to spill as it needed to.

"I-I will…..Theodore?", said Joyce with quivering voice.

"Please Ma'am, call me Ted", he said back with kindly smile.

"Very well…Ted, d-did my husband ever talk to you about…well….", she said blushing with a mix of anger and sorrow.

"We talked often Ma'am, I am…_**was**_ his bondsman and as such our conversing was held in the strictest of confidence", he said as he adjusted his powdered wig with his starched white gloves.

"I-I understand and I both respect and admire that but I need to know something"

"But Ma'am…", he protested as being forced to betray his Master's secrets.

"Theodore….Ted…please", Joyce begged with such sorrow in her eyes that her butler fought to hold his own tears as he hated to see her suffer so.

"Very well Ma'am, w-what do you need to know?", he said feeling most anxious at what hurts he would be about to unveil as he felt his backbone buck with acute shivering's. He shifted uneasily in his spotless white stockings and picked at the shining buttons on his long blue coat, his Master had been a stickler for well-dressed servants and Ted was a shining example of such devotion.

"D-do you know if….my husband… did he say of his…._desiring's_? Did he tell you of…..a girl who is our servant but is…..fruit of his loins?"

"I…I….I….", he blustered out as if he was the accused before divine altar, but as he flushed red Joyce's eyes returned to the letter but this time her eyes caught the last lines.

'…_..and tell Buffy to guard her music box well for I must confess all is not what it doth seem, for 'tis a puzzle box of Chinese crafting and within it lies a secret. It is imperative she keeps it safe for though I am no longer with thee, a man whom I trust with our lives will one day come for it. Tell Buffy I am so sorry for using her like this but I implore you…. she __**must**__ keep it safe"_

_**Back on the board The Slayer**_

"Kome mein friend, let us not disturb Fraulein Summers for a while. I think she be in needing of a little time alone ", said Lorne as it pained him too much to watch o'er Faith any longer, his eyes stung and he pushed himself to leave the cabin and he held Xander firm as they walked across the foc's'sle breathing in the gusting air.

"Aye, very well", replied Xander with worried echoes as, without thinking, he had spilled forth the secret of Faith's terror to a Lady he knew not. He felt as if he had breached a most solemn of trusts and though his codlings had been much neglected of late he wished them not to be pluck'd and pickled by his Captain upon her recovery….if such a day would arrive.

"Vill ye be sick?", asked Lorne as they stepped across the salty decks heading towards the galley and the gourds of heady beer Xander was in dire need of to steady his nerves which seem to unravel in elaborate scheme.

"Nay..I….I will be fine…..but this talk of _**him**_….you think the rumours are true?", said the buccaneer fearfully.

"Nein, ve have heard these whispers in near every port ve have made these three years past. Lies to put fear into fools, ye saw him slain afore going down on his ship. Not even _**he **_could survive zat", said Lorne with confidence as they stepped down the narrow passage and slipped into the crowded galley which heaved with steaming pot and the brittle curl of smoke.

They were silent as a smithy struck with the cowpox come New Year, and as the clench and gnash of teeth around salted beef and bread did sound out the crew struggled for words to raise their morose spirits.

"I have been promised a mutton pie an' that's all I hunger fer", said Warren as though his appetite was shrivelled well his lust for such a dish were legendary amongst the crew.

"Aye, I have it fer ye", said Andrew as her brought forth the steaming pie, "Mr Gunn, would ye care for a bite?"

"Nay"

"But 'tis most fine, if not I have some salmagundi…or maybe some cackle fruit", pressed the galleyman as he gestured to some greening eggs.

"I said nay, have ye forgot it still be Ramadan?", asked the smooth headed Bo'sun with a blunted snarl as he coiled a spill of rope around his strong arm.

"Oh sorry"

"'Tis no matter"

"Xander, we been a talkin' and we must ask, few of us have ever been to see this witch o' the isle. Can this Tara _**really**_ cure the Cap'n?", asked Amy as she heard manys the tale of the demon wench who made Tabula Rasa her home.

"Aye, fear not m'dear….it will all be well soon enough", replied Xander as he settled himself by the table.

"Aye, soon as we know it, Faith will be chock full o' fizz an' ginger; after all, Tara cured Xander did she not, after he slept with that native girl off the Isthmus of Panama"

"Quiet Devon", the patched Cox'n enthused as his cheeks turned a pinch as he feasted 'pon bread and dripping pay no mind to weevil or taste.

"But it went all septic an' black an' it….", replied Devon as he nibbled on a tooth duller, the extremely hard crackers splintering in his dry mouth.

"I said quiet", Xander barked back not wanting to relive his anointment as, to his surprise, a silence lumbered on to the crews tongues for the moment.

Dull silvered ringlets slipped from Satsu's lips, still rich with the creamings of Mr Gunn, as she puffed her pipe well ferrying the smoke across the battered table purloined from an unknown trader of Cuban harbour. The haggard crew, hunched of shoulder and fraught of nerve, sat round helpless as they could offer no aid nor comfort to their Captain except by praying for swiftened tides to sully them forth.

"Anya, have ye found yer bird yet?", asked Warren as he pulled up a pew. The sway of the crew but a frenzied stew of melancholy and despair which bludgeoned the hearts and minds of all who called The Slayer as their home. It had seemed a lifetime since the squall of merriment had flooded their vessel with the pitching of wit and rum to dance 'neath the swell of canvas against a westering sun.

"Nay, it seems Hallie hath flown free. Damn be to the mutton headed spatton who left her cage open, if I find it were ye Spike I will drag yer codlings t'the moorings", growled Anya picking the flecks of fish scale from her pantaloons.

"Twere nowt t'do with me, I hate yer bloody birds so why….", sneered the Englishman with a deft scowl.

"Ye hate so much as to free 'em….gagh!", Anya spat as her noggin crack'd well 'gainst the low slung beams of the narrow slanted room.

"Oh shut yer squawking, wench"

"How dare ye…"

"Yer bloody bird escaped is all, with all that's 'appened I got no surprise. Keep yer luff, Anya", dismissed the Englishman, his cheeks pinking as he avoiding the longing gaze of Andrew whose heart ached with each callous dismissal.

The galleysman, seen as most as the runt o' The Slayer, returned to his pots and silently cursed himself for Andrew believed his heart to be most shallow to suffer a wound so deep, callously cast by a love unreturned.

"I have lost my hunger, and thank ye Xander for doin' naught to salvage my name", huffed Anya as she stomped from the huddle of fatigued bodies and drew herself to the deck where prevailing winds would make for better company.

"Ahn, wait!", called Xander, "Spike, ye be….gah".

He broke off in frustrated recoil as the one eyed man followed his beloved up on deck fearing that her recent sharp behaviour was due to their lack of consummation 'tween the bedsheets, it had been many a moon since his seed had spilled into her dank and musty cove and in those last empty months he had become well versed in the practice of onanism. He liked not to churn his own butter but even though Satsu was available whene'er he wished Xander was not a man to betray the trust of his lady, a lesson he learned well when still barely freed from the manacles of impetuous youth, and so scurried after Anya with his feet pounding up the stairs like a startled mare on a powdery plain.

"Why do you dislike her so, Spike?", asked Amy as she sipped her flagon, its heady offerings did little to quell her as she languished in misers brooding for though she rarely spoke of her loyalty to her Captain this heavy mood of despair was suffocating the crew whole.

"She just….I will….a mangle tongued 'arpy she is, an' her greed for coin riles me", Spike said as his hand rested 'pon his glossy jowels which no slit of razor had crossed in many a day.

"Is this all because o' Surinam? She were not to blame fer…."

"Shut it, I need not remindin' of _**that**_ night", Spike said with anger sparking in his blue eyes as he raised to his feet as he too walked away barging past Kennedy and Willow who stood by the crook of the door unnoticed. The maid's head still thundered well at the revelations the latina has spit forth in her meandering tale of vengeance and loss.

"….and that is why I swore ne'er to leave her side and why Mr Gunn is so treasured among those who know", said Kennedy with a firm finish.

"I…oh my….I have been much too…oh my…your Captain has certainly suffered so", said Willow as her pallid face trembled with both sorrow and anguish upon hearing the full story of the Tangiers incident.

"Indeed, so ye can see why we _**all**_ risk so much for her"

As they ducked down Willow and Kennedy brushed aside flakes of pastry and fishbones to sit on the wooden pew by the timbered table which was carved with many a crude limerick concerning the King and his questionable virtue. They shuffled to their seats negotiating around the kneeling form of Johnathan who was tasked with scrubbing the floor of the much used galley for the manners of pirates be most uncouth.

"I…I think this be not the place one such as I…. I-I should….", started Willow softly as she could feel the gnash of discontent from the pirates who were wholly fagged from worry.

"Nay, m'Lady. Sit wi' me and break bread", insisted Kennedy as she pulled free her cutlass and lay it on the table pushing Warren's mutton pie to near spill into his lap.

"Oi, watch it Ken", the thumbless man said back through a spark of crumbs.

"What, ye be near to fillin' yer scuppers anyways", shrugged the latina as if her one move were a desperate attempt to bring a touch of the jovial back to her crew. But no mirth was to rise from her men as they stared back with maudlin eyes for they were all bogged in the vast grey mud flats of despair.

Kennedy's hair flowed long and free, the kerchief round her neck knotted doubly and her pantaloons of pinioned grey slid well up her legs as she took the first rest in over a day. She first thought to kick her knee high boots free but such an act would show Willow the stubbed feet where she had lost three toes to the bite o' frost when they were stranded on Nordic shores one damnable winter.

Willow toyed with the cherished locket around her neck as, without thinking, she slid closer to Kennedy, the commander of the vessel seemed as if she were a monolith of strength but the redheaded maid could see more than the façade presented to her. She could sense the fear shimmering through Kennedy's veins and as Willows fingers locked around the Latinas the maid could feel the grip tighten for although Kennedy was as fine a seamen as any she felt the thunder of guilt ride within her for hers was a position gained through default not heralded by noble deed.

With the smallest flash of a smile from Willow the latina felt her heart buoyed, for she needed this comfort, this validation, the foundation that every leader needs when their will be sapped or fractured by guilt or doubt.

"Thank ye Will", said Kennedy as she crooked her nape to a jaunty angle and pushed her lips to the maids capturing her kiss as if willing plunder. As the pursed lips pressed in for little more than a second a tide of passion swept through the redhead's body as her skin tingled as if scorching feathers were dancing an erotic tableau upon her soul. As Willow broke the brief kiss in sudden shock her face burnt brighter than the sails which drew them ever closer to the Isle Of The Fire Lily.

"Be you alright, m'Lady?", quizzed Kennedy with slight annoyance that she could be taunted so with this tenderest of pleasures.

"I…I….I….", she stammered as she turned to face the crew who, to her shock, did not seem to judge Willow as deviant or usurper for even though their dour faces were lit by fresh sparked eyes no words of disgust were spat at her.

"What's wrong, honey?", asked Kennedy curious as to why the moment of joy was broken with ease, but as her sweetened name for her beau-to-be ricocheted through Willow's mind the maid looked aghast that she could so easily act like a drunken harlot of easily bought morals, and in front of a crowd of thieves and murderers no less.

"Willow? Ye be….what is it?"

"I….I have to go", said the maid through her aching throat which contracted well as her shame swallowed her as she wished for her sense of outrage to be dulled.

"No m'Lady, tell me what…", Kennedy insisted holding tight to Willow's hand refusing to loosen her grip.

"Just let me go!", snapped Willow as her tears spilled out, she roughly wiped them as she fled from the quiet sniggers of the galley which seemed to follow her hastened path.

"What in Bonny's name? What did I…. Willow!", Kennedy yelled but the small heeled shoes had carried the maid away quickly, yanking up her billowing skirts as she ascended the crooked steps to the deck trying hard not to cry her shame away.

"Ken you cloth-prunker, be you crack'd o' the pate?", scoffed Mr Gunn as he finished his grog with a loud belch.

"Me?"

"Aye, you. Can ye not see how timid she be, and ye treat her like yer spouse afore she has even come to realize her own feelings. I know ye wish to pitch your woo but ye need to loosen the shackles"

"I…what?"

"Ken, I love thee as if my own kin but at times ye be thickened o' the head something rotten", said Mr Gunn scratching at his intimacies once more, though the Doctor's lotion had quelled his fiery aching it still tingled with a romance paid for by the hour.

Kennedy fell headlong into a dumb silence as she mulled her trusted Bo'suns words, though she was well mastered at the gunport she would ne'er admit to her failings and so, as conversing wriggled free around her, she paid no heed to the bleatings of the throng of cut-throats.

"Like I were sayin' before ol' one eye interrupted, I have little love for ol' Blighty but it still be my home and still I wish to ride on its pastures, bucking on a fine stallion", sighed Amy as she pressed rum filled gourd to her lips whilst her mind cast back to happier days in the bosom of England.

"I knew not ye liked horses"

"Who said anything about horses?", she winked back with an eye that had been stitched well after the melee in The Black Dog.

"Hold, I thought ye just hungered for th' lap o' a wench", said Oz.

"I sail 'neath both flags and make harbour in any port", the garrotte happy powder monkey shrugged back, "But I know my thoughts are naught but idle wish for I will meet the gallows long before I repay my debt"

"What do ye…..oh, ye still think of her? What were her name again?", quizzed the Doctor who feasted well.

"Grace. Grace Newman, and if were not for her I would ne'er have survived those six months in Harrowlands nor made my escape from that damn'd place", said Amy with a shiver as the hard labour she was forced to endure in the prison laundry was a realm of hell she ne'er though possible

"And she still be there?"

"Of course, though Grace were not noosed she knows she will ne'er feel the touch o' liberty again. But I owe her much and her midnight visits were all that kept my mind together, I can still feel the cane o' Miss Patrice an' I dread to think what sufferings that pickle faced jubloon has made Grace endure", she said with such sadness that Oz's heart clenched most fierce.

The verdict handed down by the Judge were most harsh on Amy and though she stole but only a watch she were still sentenced to fifteen years of the hardest most degrading labour of the times, and as the days passed and her knuckles bloodied from the ribbed wooden wash boards Amy felt all hope desert her as her father disowned her swiftly. As the soda bit into her raw flesh it were only the thought of Grace's soft kiss during nightfall which kept her going, though the older woman were convicted of murdering her husband James, the evidence were little and commuted from a quick drop at the gallows to spending the rest of her days behind bars in the damp pestilence of Harrowlands gaol.

It were Grace who had made Amy's escape possible and though they would ne'er kiss again, this brave and strong woman would forever be in Amy's thoughts and prayers. The superintendent of the laundry would only ever feature in her sullen curses as Miss Patrice was as cruel a fiend as ever she had encountered on the high seas, but behind the safety of Governor Ballard this jumped up oin locker could wage her punishments freely on those sentenced for naught but defending themselves against the callous brutes that they once called husband.

"I wish more than anythin' to go back and….but I know that I will be granted no clemency on land, the sea is my home…and my tomb", said Amy with a mood shifting back to dour waters.

"Ye fear the seas, Amy? Since when, for I thought ye found death as a meddlesome trifle, no more feared than a stocking?", asked Oz but Amy's eyes now sparkled with tears for she rarely talked of the woman who had risked so much for her, she broke off into a pugged silence as her memories fired up the thin scars 'tween her shoulders where Miss Patrice's thin rattan cane sliced her deeply for not scrubbing the jam rags to her standards.

"Speaking of which, tell me Johnathan, why were ye stocked anyways?", asked Warren to the young man of pallid complex scrubbing the galley floor with humbling insistence.

"I…I cannot say", replied Johnathan as he took up holystone fresh from dousing and scraped once more 'pon the filth strewn timbers of the galley where leather boot and wooden leg stood proud together.

"I have put much on the line for ye, and ye cannot give me something as simple as the truth?", snorted the thumbless man with derisions echo.

"I…very well, I owe ye much Sir", said the young man with Iscariot glare as he pulled up to his haunches, "I were an officer o' the Royal Navy "

"An officer? At yer age? Let me guess, a child o' privilege bought a rank by Pater whilst still shy o' the cusp o' manhood?", snorted Andrew with jealousy's swirl.

"Aye, I took t'the waves when I were but thirteen but I were not prepared for th' rigours o' the sea, I took it as a lark and after a few years I….well we landed in Van Diemens Land and…..let us just say it were conduct unbecoming of an officer and I were court martialled"

"But how did ye end up in The Hellmouth?"

"I were most lucky that pater bought my release from th'Navy but he ne'er spoke to me again. Now I work on behalf of the Levant Company and the Massachusetts Bay Company recruiting privateer's t'sail 'neath the Kings colours as they hunt down the pirate scum o' the seven seas", said Johnathan unhinging his words.

"You speak honestly?", asked Warren shrinking under the menace rising in his crewmates of bringing a man such as he aboard The Slayer.

"Aye, but I think my grog blossom betrays my extravagances", said Johnathan motioning to his red pimples around his mouth where many a flagon o' gin had seen it last, "And thusly I rode into Madam Dru's not knowing where I was, when I were still muddled wi' gin I tried to raise offers of privateering so that crazed harridan stock'd me and manys the buccaneer who spat their ire or indulged their fancy in my hindquarters"

"Heh, an' ye said ye were no molly", scoffed Warren as he refilled his clay pipe biting down hard on the stem.

"'Aye, 'tis true, for a molly is paid to loosen the strings on Sodom's purse. But it could have been much worse"

"Worse? How?"

"Captain Rayne wanted me to pay my debt t'the Spun Nancy, but Madam Dru thought better of it", sighed Johnathan thanking the mercy of Dru.

"Ye were lucky"

"Aye, verily"

"So you find us pirates as vermin? To hunt n' kill?", growled Mr Gunn throwing his thruppence worth of disdain into the mix.

"To be honest…aye"

"Easy Mr Gunn", said Oz as he held back the hulking negro from thrusting a twisted fork through the gulping throat of the new man to their ship.

"But despite why I may think of ye, or ye of me, I am honor bound to serve on your ship. I may have little in this world but ye have gifted me my freedom and given me the chance to regain my honor. I shall not ley ye down, Sir", Johnathan oathed to the seething Mr Gunn who tore free of Oz and headed up to the deck as a virulent mist descended in his charcoal eyes.

Kennedy, wrenching herself from her silent pondering, saw the distress on the faces of her crewmates who remained and usually she would be the first to call for a noose or at least keelhaul the slivey-poxer that Warren had brought aboard their vessel, but as Captain she had to be the voice of reason, a voice she seldom used.

"Men, ignore the blubberpot for we have a mission to fulfil. Ye all know of Faith's sufferin' so we must make haste and fear naught that stands before us", Kennedy said with heroine's charm.

"But…."

"No buts, look I know yer hearts be heavy for the Cap'n but fear not, we have put our trust in Tara before an' she has ne'er failed us yet."

"Trust? What trust does a necromancer deserve?", scoffed Andrew from behind his boiling pots having, like most of the crew, never met the rumoured witch.

"Faith trusts her…without doubt nor hesitation"

"Why?"

"I...I know not, but we will soon find out. We just keep sailin' a nor-westerly heading, for the sooner we get t'the Isle then the sooner…..", Kennedy trailed off as a strange look roused her face.

"What be wrong?", asked Andrew as he served a platter of steaming turtle to the table, his heart still wrenching from each second that Spike refused to clash gaze with him.

"The ship…..we are changing course!", yelled Kennedy with anger.

_**Meanwhile, in the Captain's Cabin**_

"Miss Buffy…I-I have a confession to m-make", said Willow as she toyed with her fingers with nervous qualm and squirmed in the rough calico of her long dress. Her tears had calmed in the welcoming arms of her Mistress, Faith still slumbered well and Buffy took the moment to hold her sorrow ridden friend who would normally be most insistent that her Mistress be properly attired.

"Willow, you be scaring me. What is it?", asked Buffy as she took her maids quivering hands into her own and pulled her to sit on the bed next to her.

"I…oh, Miss Buffy…I-I have shamed….I-I have made a m-mockery of your kindness..", sobbed Willow in fear.

"Oh Will, shhh", the Lady soothed pulling the redhead into her soft embrace though it were not swathed in the fair scent of torn petal but the rank shroudings of sweat and urine.

"I…I….the girl…Kennedy….s-she….she…"

"She what? Did she hurt thee? Tell me Willow. If she hath raised a hand to you then I shall…."

"No, naught like that!", replied the maid with widened eyes.

"Then what?"

"I-I am so sorry Miss Buffy, I know I-I have brought such shame on you and your family by being so wronged in the head….once we reach p-port I shall flee from your service and take refuge in a b-bawdy house…"

"Do not talk of such nonsense, for a wimple would suit ye not", said Buffy trying to lighten the mood.

"Miss Buffy, this be not the time for levity", sniped Willow not minding her station.

"Sorry"

"Oh Miss, I-I must flee to save ye any more shame, for as m-much as it will pain me I-I cannot bear to hurt you or thy…"

"Will, please cease you babbling", said Buffy with stern kindness.

"B-b-but I…I…"

"You what?"

"I-I fear I may be….sweetened on her…..I….K-Kennedy and I…we...we…. _kissed_", the maid said fretfully as she awaiting the outpouring of scorn from her Mistress.

"Willow…I…I had no idea you were thusly….er… desired", gasped Buffy.

"N-nor had I. But Kennedy is so pretty and such a gentleman…er, woman….and she has the kindness that every romance novella I have ever read speaks of, the hero of rough exterior who steals midnight kiss that quivers her very soul…Miss Buffy, why do you not yell? Have I sullied you into silent hatred w-with my infamy?", she said in tearful panic.

"Nay, my sweet Willow. I could _**never**_ hate you, you know that…it be just…."

"Just what Miss Buffy?"

"I-I feel I may be also in mind of…..you know…..tipping the velvet, so to speak"

"Miss Buffy!", gasped Willow as she pulled her hands free to cover her mouth in shock.

"Please hear me out. I…I have ne'er felt like this afore Will, when I see Faith, the _**real**_ Faith that is….she has such an enchantment o'er me that I find myself bound in struggle not to…..to…."

"To what Miss Buffy?"

"To…..kiss her", the blonde confessed dropping her gaze to the floor as she felt the warmth of blushing caress her face well.

"Oh Miss Buffy, are we bewitched? Has some sorceress of the seas cast evil tidings o'er us? Come Miss Buffy", rushed out Willow as she dropped to her knee and clasped her hands together, "Let us pray for forgiveness as our sins…."

"Willow, we are not damn'd for… _liking_ someone, and I-I think I like her"

"You _**like**_ her? In the same manner as how foxes like to be hunted?"

"Nay, this be something….more"

"How can ye say such things? W-what will Lieutenant Finn say if his bride is…is….a sinner?", eaked out the devout redhead.

"Will, how can ye really say that 'tis a sin to love?"

"Love? Who spake of love? P-please, do not jest with me, ye cannot surely say that someone such as _**she**_ is worthy of your love? She is a _**pirate**_ Miss Buffy! Such a notion is but a vain chimera"

"I...I do not know what love feels like but when I look in her eyes and see the real Faith staring back it fills me with such.… I think often of her Will and hate not the feelings which arise when I do, please think no less of me but I cannot help my heart from such yearnings. I know I have spat my ire at her these past few days but now my heart cannot help but jettison such disdain.… I-I cannot help but feel for her"

Willow did not speak.

She did not move.

Her mouth hung open as it were one thing for her to be of deviant desiring's but to have her Mistress fall to such foul depths was unthinkable.

As the mind of the maid clenched in the vile talons of fear Willow's worries were interrupted by the tumult of voices crying o'er the growing thunder of the tainted tides. The clatter of well forged steel rang out to mix with the sullen thump of timber being hammered down as the crew of The Slayer rushed around the deck as the lofted crows nest emptied swiftly.

Marcie felt a shiver as she stepped with haste across the buckling thwart to tackle the villainous stern sheets which snared in each roughening breeze, her leather gloves, custom tailored to hide the webbing of her fingers, gripped firm as she looped a rope around her waist ready to climb atop.

"Anya, what in hell's teeth do ye think ye be doin'? Why are we changin' course?", the temporary Captain snapped as she slammed her hand on the great wooden helm which span to starboard, Kennedy's burning fury spitting out as if gifted to her by Prometheus himself.

"Look ahead", replied Anya over the snap of canvas catching in the wind which sounded out like the aggrieved barking of a wolf hound fresh beaten before baiting a starving bear .

Kennedy stared out ahead towards the horizon and felt her heart shudder for the sky had washed with the blackest of inks and lit by the jagged zig zags of lightning, a monstrous pitch as if spewed from hell's darkest domain lay before The Slayer and it's vile crew of picaroons.

"Mana de dios", gasped Kennedy feeling the growing swell 'neath the hull of The Slayer as the most ferocious of storms approached them head on.

"Indeed, we have to steer around it", said Anya as she tried to wrench the wheel back from the latina.

"Stay your hand, Anya. We head straight for it!", yelled Kennedy as a sudden fury flooded her already tattered soul.

"Be ye mad Ken? If we sail into a tempest like that it will tear our hull asunder!", added Amy as her pupils filled with the menace fast approaching.

"Tara is on the other side o' that storm, if we sail round it will take three more days and Faith has not that time. If we cower away now and circle it so….she will not survive"

"If we face that storm then _**none**_ of us will survive, The Slayer will become our mausoleum. Just look at those waves, those are twenty footers", implored Anya with owlish eyes.

"Twenty five, if they are an inch", replied Kennedy as her resolve struck with the impurity of jackal's desire.

"Please Ken, the Cap'n would ne'er….", said Anya as she watched Mr Gunn and Spike loop a knot of rope around their wide belted waists ready to lash themselves to the creaking crossbeam afore they pulled in the canvas.

"Anya, _**I**_ am Cap'n now and I tell ye we head for the horizon. General quarters Mr Gunn, heave to an' haul out the gaff t'yardarm, we run full sail then stow 'pon my signal"

"Aye, aye Ken…er, Cap'n", the Bo'sun corrected himself as he gripped the rigging tight and set to clambering up as the fraying ropes swung further as the wind lashed with a mighty forewarning.

"Let me help ye, Sir", said Johnathan as he stepped forward with welted knees and sored back.

"I trust ye not, you have not earned it and ye are a Company's man who will turn 'pon us at first flint", snarled Mr Gunn to the pallid man who tottered as the swell of the murky tide increased.

"Then let me earn thy trust, Sir. Let me rig with ye, I will fail ye not", implored the young man staring up the loft bound negro.

"Very well", Mr Gunn spat in return, "But if ye lag in the slightest then I will throw ye from the masthead an' feel naught when yer skull cracks 'pon the deck"

"I understand, Sir", agreed the portly man as he hauled himself up the abrasive salt of the rigging which began to sway as the tendrils of the storm reached out to them like sirens whim.

"This be suicide, Cap'n", shouted Warren though he braced the lock'd capstan in firm readiness.

"Ken, I beg of thee…. turn back!" cried Anya over the din, "For not even Madam Dru is loon enough to take on such a storm"

"Nay, we sail forward….hold ye tight men an' stand firm the watches….and may God forgive us our trespasses should we fail", said Kennedy with thundering heart as she crossed herself and took the wheel into such a ferocious grip that her hands would soon again sore and bleed well.

As the demonic figurehead and boomkins lurched ever forward Kennedy watched whilst Amy said a quick rosary as they lay a beat into the snarling teeth of the storm which clogged the ill-omened horizon. As they laid siege to the sinister lands before them the crew accepted not the fortitude of despair though in their hearts they knew that under such a blackened sky of purest malevolence it would be miraculous if they woke not in hell's eternal dominion.

As the gloomy waves crested in the distance Kennedy looked around at her frightened crew and cursed their misfortune, though her own fears were snuffed by her desperation as she knew that they had to get to Tabula Rasa before the untimely breaking of dawn.

Or she, 'pon the day of St Vigeous, would traverse the vile chasm of sorrow and wrap the funeral shrouds on Faith herself.


	9. Chapter 9

_**(For Spandex Monkey Man who wanted more swashbuckling and less blather. And Noobsdog who wanted more naked Faith. I hope this makes up for the last chapter which I admit was overly long and kinda boring, from their suggestions this chapter sort of brewed and spilled from my head. Also inspired by the songs of Alestorm, especially 'Shipwrecked', you can find them on youtube (Scottish pirate metal at its finest, yes there is such a thing, arrr! ;) But I promise Tara will be in the NEXT chapter, just bear with me ok?)**_

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…**..**

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'Neath a tar pitch canvas seemingly borne of the wrath of the divine The Slayer ploughed its furrow ever forward as Kennedy wrapped herself deeper in her cocoon of desperation which bled into an unbridled anger as she rode the storm like a rum fuddled lover. Her lips, the colour of Andalusian wine, opened wide as she laughed at the thunder which fired like cannon's song and spat forth her ire at the lightning dancing above the naked masts almost daring it to strike it's vengeance down on her.

"Be that all ye have Lord? Come on then! If ye think ye will take Faith….then ye will take us all so we may all dance in hell's great ballroom", she screamed into the embittered gale which flailed her sodden hair out behind her in a salt laden lashing. The deafening roar of the storm enveloped the ship whole as the driving rain slammed into her skin as if thousands of pinpricks erupted on her rosy cheeks, but she felt it not as her throat sored in her wails of hatred.

"W-what be wrong with her? Be she possessed", Amy yelled over the cacophony as she held tight her rope, she too was now tied to the capstan with Warren as each sickle of water crested over the ship and crashed down with a pounding, crushing force.

"Nay, I think…she be just….oh sweet Jesu", gasped the thumbless man as his eyes flitted up high.

His words suffocated still in his breast as all eyes of the crew struck the poop deck as they looked up with terror and with awe as there, on the mezzanine 'tween earth and purgatory, stood Kennedy bathed in the unearthly glow of St Elmo's fire. Its eerie Godless glow framed her furious silhouette showing that, despite her soul plunging sadness, she could still muster a smile to her cheeks. A damnable smirk of insolence on her lips as she held fought to hold firm the wheel whilst the storm raged all around them, no quarter to be shown.

"Ken, I beg of ye to turn back! Can ye not see this be the Lord's judgment, he wants us not to find this witch. If we loose sail now we can still….."

"One more word from ye Anya and I will nail yer face t'the rudder", yelled back Kennedy through the spit of the infernal din as her face grotesqued into a scowl ne'er seen outside the confines of Lucifer's homestead.

For Kennedy had something to prove, to the crew, to the heavens staring down with glee and mostly to herself for she was oft seen as a pale imitation of Faith. A mere vagabond who would forever wallow in the shadow of the true legend of the seas, but here at the helm she could finally silence the naysayers and prove her worth both as Captain and pirate.

Up in the perilous tops, lashed to the crossbeam of the main mast, Mr Gunn, who feared not the welcome of Mohammed, and Johnathan fought with fury to hold firm the canvas which now lay stowed, though from their lofty perch the swing of the vessel near shook them free as each breath was fought for in this battle, though the foe be not of flesh and bearing musket or cutlass it were an enemy intent on driving all life from those on board. The storm ravaged and tossed The Slayer around as if it were a blasphemous intruder into holy tides, but no decree from the powers-that-be would deter Kennedy from her goal.

"Mr Harris! Snare them drabblers afore they tear", yelled the latina as she strained to see straight.

"Aye…but Ken.."

"But nothing Xander, either fit the ship for action…..or fit yer soul for heaven!", Kennedy shouted back as she felt her muscles bulge and ache as she could barely hold the wheel from spinning larboard.

The timbered decks creaked and whined as if begging for pity under the peak and collapse of each mighty wave slamming down on the ship as the crew spluttered and gripped in grim realisation that the time for repentance was at hand.

Willow, sent back to their cabin by her Mistress, swung a hessian sack across her head as she braved her dread and set foot out onto the decks. She feared for Miss Buffy and even though her romantic revelations had shocked her well, she was still her Lady's maid and should attend her side through every peak and pitfall that befell her. Gripping tight to the splayed rigging ripped free of its moorings Willow bore the crash of wave 'pon wave as she soaked through with moments, as she wiped her hair free of her face she looked up to see Kennedy shadowed in an ethereal wash, as bitter a tyrant as one hoped ne'er to bear witness to.

As the latina cursed and screamed into the winds Willow stepped up towards her as the ship lunged heavily to starboard. The maelstrom did thunder hard as she ship near capsized with each enormous swell 'neath their hull, the heavens cried havoc but the two enemies did lock themselves in battle.

God at his most belligerent and a captain at her most defiant.

"Warren, stow firm the cannon, man! An' lash that tackle to", she yelled down with venom seeing the broken ropes flail as if infused with cruel intent.

"Aye, aye, Ken", he called back as he fought to stand upright as this scourge continued.

"K-Kennedy…what be wrong w-with ye?", shouted Willow as she struggled for footing as the waters broke across the decks as if tongue's formed of Hades' whim.

"Will? Get back below", cried Kennedy as her wrath slipped from the young marauder's mind as she saw the timid maid tussle against the whip of the wind and the thick grey rain as she held both shank and rig alike.

"I….what is…"

Before Willow could finish her pleadings a great wave, thirty feet if an inch, close to wetting the feet of the pirates lashed to the crossbeams, crossed their starboard and crashed down at the helm. As Kennedy's hand gripped tight to the wheel she gritted her stained teeth as she battled back to her feet, wiping her stinging eyes she looked across but could not see Willow.

"Willow? WILLOW!", Kennedy yelled as panic clenched hard for she knew that the tide had stolen er from the safety of the ship. She sprang to the boards and wiped as her eyes, sored with rain and thunderous tide, scoured the frothing green seas for the redhead.

The ship lolled and bucked 'pon the whim of the lap of wave, rising and crashing down with thunder as the crew held on with whitened knuckles as they prayed in silence for mercy from the Lord. But there, in the swell of tide Kennedy snatched a glance of Willow, a flash of white petticoat offset 'gainst the darkened curl of the violent waters.

"Ken, what are ye doin'?", yelled Spike seeing the rising form of Kennedy as he watched her wrap a coil of rope around her midriff as she broke her fury as guilt brought about a swelter of need 'gainst the aching chill of the storm.

"I do what I must", the latina screamed back as she leapt from The Slayer and into the pitiless mouth of the watery domain. She splashed into the pounding fury of the sea and thrashed her limbs as the swirl of the waves dunked her heart and whole under its relentless rhythms.

"Kennedy ye fool", shouted Warren as he slipped from his mooring and grasped the rigging overlooking her, now but a dash of red in the gloom of the ocean, bobbing like a flamboyant top, "Ye cannot swim!"

"W….Will…", cried the pirate as she flailed in the crests whilst Poseidon bestowed his carnage upon her, but her shout, under the roar of the storm, became as pious whimpers.

Willow floundered in the waters as her long dress weighed leaden as her legs kicked wildly, but each time she opened her thin lips to cry for help it was silenced by the encroaching wash. Each twist of the surf pushed her further from the dim lights eaking out from the narrow cabin windows of The Slayer as her mind filled with a palpable terror.

"W..wi…", coughed Kennedy as she spied the maid but as she reached towards her head slipped below the waves for a third time, though her heart was valiant her sense was cowered by a notion of lust, and she sunk from sight.

"K-K-Ken", spluttered Willow as she too slid under the dark tides but she was of a fierce resolve and firm stroke so fought with grimmest determination, using the rich vein of strength which only washed true when facing desperate times she tore open the cloth covered buttons of her long calico dress and wriggled free buoying in an instant as she swam towards the rope dancing into the sea.

Willow stretched far and hard until the rope slipped between her fingers, taking a breath which she felt may be her last; she dived down hauling herself along the rope until in the murk she felt the lumpen form of Kennedy.

The maid kicked with mule's spirit until she swum up and breached the surface, gasping for air as she held the brave hearted but dim witted pirate in her arms. With rational thought purged from her mind Willow held Kennedy tight and as she felt the slack of the rope being reeled in she looked up to see a fierce fin of a wave poise to dash them to a smattering of cloth and bone.

"Oh god", she whispered as her arms tightened around Kennedy and closed her eyes, a silent prayer of forgiveness on her lips.

_..._

_**Meanwhile, in the Captain's cabin**_

"Dawn, these are wonderful. I had no idea such talent resided in thee", Buffy said with genuine gaiety as she leafed through Dawn's own treasure. The collection of drawings, hewn in shades of charcoal, she had etched of majestic wolves, sly vixens and animals that Buffy could not even name, made the Lady's eyes widen as they were as beautiful as any Buffy had e'er seen draped in the hallways of any home in Greenwich.

As the tempest unfurled its rage outside Buffy did all she could to calm the youngling who had been sent to the Captain's cabin, after locking Wesley in his bamboo cage, for if they truly were to perish in this storm then Dawn wanted to be at Faith's side in death as she was in life, for here she felt no fear. As Buffy rocked and swayed with the violent rocking of the ship she too feared a watery grave but if these moments were to be the last in a life half-lived then she wanted to bring comfort to a young girl who would ne'er know the simple joys that Buffy had been blessed with since birth – the warm embrace of a mother, the pride of school and the notion of a life of liberty.

Buffy still felt pained that she ordered Willow back to their cabin as word of the approaching storm broke; she felt it safer for her beloved maid to be safe below decks but now, being the outsider to a family of curs who now faced the certainty of everlasting damnation, Buffy felt alone. As Willow left her Mistress' side swathed in a shroud of silence it wounded Buffy most deeply as she feared she had sullied her friendship to an irredeemable degree so as the ship bucked at the behest of the seas mischief Buffy wished her maid by her side once more. For if she would ne'er set the morn again she wanted to be in the simple embrace of someone who loved her.

"D-Dawn", asked Buffy before swallowing her fears for now wanting to compound the young girls own, "Dawnie…be this you and Faith?"

Dawn leant forward; her hand not leaving Faith's since arriving, and peeked her soiled gaze across the parchment. The girl had no more tears left to flow for she had spilled them all onto Faith's bare breast as she wept whilst laying on her sister but as Buffy watched Dawn suffer something in her did rise. The plight of this young girl, hurt more in her slight years than most would find in five lifetimes, stirred Buffy into belaying her own terrors and help this girl find the comfort she desperately sought.

"Dawn…be this ye and Faith?", Buffy repeated hoping to coax her from her shell of misery and pain as the storm screamed its malicious intent around them.

The young girl wiped her reddened eyes and a small wet smile crept across her face, for there, captured in near perfect likeness, lay a drawing of her and Faith riding at the gallop, tricorns flapping in the breeze, claret tinged sabres glinting in the sun and radiant smiles against the fiery backdrop of a burning British fort.

Dawn nodded back in tired silence.

"Do you like to ride horsies?", asked Buffy in her clipped tones which reeked of condescension.

Dawn's fingers trembled as she reached into the pocket of her small weskit and pulled forth a sliver of charcoal and started to write along the edge of the parchment. Buffy looked at the weskit clenched in tight around the young girls waist and couldn't help but admire the fine stitching on it reminding Buffy of the embroidery she had performed on the hassocks for St Martin's church back in London.

Buffy craned her thin neck and let her eyes drift along the words Dawn had scrawled not wanting to draw attention to the misspelling.

"_Faith promised me one day she wood by me a pony and teech me how to ride"_

"Really? For I had a pony when I much your age, I loved Mr Gordo dearly but he still be back on our plantation, he must be a mighty fine steed by now. I used to ride in London too but after the Contessa told Mr Travers of my yearning to race I was ne'er allowed near one again. I know not what misgivings I had made to make her loathe me so but Sunday was a most vindictive lady of long blonde tresses and little love for her fellow man who…", Buffy mused before casting her warm attentions back to the confused young girl, "Oh, forgive my ramblings young Miss. But Dawn, would ye like to ride with me one day? You, I and Faith that is?"

Dawn smiled back and nodded with vigour, though she had been wary of Buffy when first she set her dainty feet aboard their ship the cabin girl had seen more than most. The quiet glances that flitted 'tween this Lady and her sister, the small gestures which showed the true nature of their hearts, for in the last few days as Faith's tempers did wax and wane Dawn could see whom was the real cause for her confusion.

As the young girls lips parted and her teeth flashed Buffy could glimpse the savage remnants of the Dawn's tongue, the mass of mangled flesh which stole from her the gift of speech. Buffy fought to keep her tears in check as she at last saw the true barbarity of this world but such thoughts befuddled her mind greatly, for who was truly the sinner? The men who sailed under the King's colours, vile rogues in uniform who could hurt an innocent such as Dawn, or the vicious pirate who lay before her mortally wounded and had risked all to save Buffy?

But her mind would provide no answers for greater threats were upon them now as the doors rattled in the wind as if a thousand partisans were hammering on the doors of a humble palace set to overthrow a cruel Marquiss. Buffy looked away from the girl and once again leafed through the wondrous drawings and, from idle curiosity, turned one over gasping at the image staring back. She in turn flipped every picture over to see that all off Dawn's artwork had been drawn on the back of wanted posters of Faith and several of her crew though the renderings did little justice to the soft eyes and succulent lips of the Captain.

Buffy's eyes flicked down once more as she saw Dawn writing again but her words were now penned by shaking hands.

"_Will Faith die?"_

Buffy looked into Dawn's eyes which brimmed with tears and pooled with such terrors that the Lady could not stop herself from pulling the young girl into a warm embrace, she felt Dawn's small body shudder against as the sob she had resisted bore itself into the room. One hand would not wrest from Faiths but the other circled Buffy tightly and hugged her as the tears, once thought dormant, now resurfaced. As Buffy's guilt tore through her she could not bear to hurt this child more and so resolved herself that she would not tell Dawn that Faith now suffered so in Buffy's stead.

"Ye really love her, do ye not?", said Buffy calmly as she felt Dawn nod heartily as if such a question could ever be raised over her loyalty and love to her sister and Captain.

They sat for a moment as Buffy brushed a rogue strand of lank and lifeless hair away from Dawn's young face and offered unto her a smile of simmering warmth, Buffy could see how the years at sea had torn free the soft tender face of a child and replaced it with a gritty ashen visage which seethed with anguish.

BANG!

They both shrieked as the door flung open as Oz barrelled through it, launched into the cabin by the toss o' the squall which raged with an unfathomable bestial fury as he splayed out face first in the sanctuary of the cabin. The good Doctor hauled himself back to his feet and with a mighty grunt pushed his crooked spine to the door and forced it shut before the block torn free of the poorly lashed tackle could slice his noggin free.

"Doctor, w-what be wrong?", asked Buffy with a sober face.

"Fear not Miss, I am not here for Faith's benefit", he sighed as he slipped free of his waxen jacket and hung it to one side as his surgically steady hands ran through his dampen locks.

"Ah, well….th-that be good tidings indeed", the Lady blustered forth as she was finding it increasingly hard to hide away her concern for the sickened pirate before her who bore a timid fragility so out of place for the woman whom, with unerring confidence, stole away with the carrack of Al Hassan ibn-Fassi off the coast of Tunis without firing a shot.

"Indeed Miss, I am here for I be no seaman. I have no taste for it, so I thought it best to ride out the squall in here"

"Did ye not rest, Sir?"

"I snared but an hour, this storm is of a most callous intent so I could not sleep with this tossing. So, be Faith still slumbering? ", Oz asked as he felt the weakened pulse that throbbed in Faith's limpen wrist for she was well sedated.

"Aye, she be"

"Good, the longer we can keep her agonies dormant the greater chance she has for I dare not risk giving her any more opiates. If she should wake before we reach this witch then…I know what to do to soothe her torments", for Oz knew that though Faith, in the swell of narcotics had all the strength of a new born and once the laudanum's effects ebbed away a great leviathan of pain would once more explode within his Captain.

"Sir, Lorne said the storm we ride is more fierce than the one off Havana. What did he mean by that?", asked Buffy.

"I am afraid I were not part of the crew back then, but rest assured that Kennedy will steer us well. Faith trusts her like no other and though she hath little experience at the helm she will fail us not. Dawn, she will bring us safe to the Isle", said Oz as he felt the jagged stroke of fear punch a hole through his heart.

The young girl nodded back and tried to smile but she could sense the plight behind the Doctor's words, for in this moment as they were guests on a sea of fevered hostility, Dawn wanted not the playful slap of her cocksure Captain…..but the embrace of her loving sister

Buffy gripped tight to the bed as The Slayer raised its menacing prow high before plunging deep into a trough of seditious wave, it's groundswell a certain harbinger of doom. As the bulkhead panels rattled and the bulwarks drowned in the boom of water crashing down across the decks Dawn's mettle crack'd as she leapt on top of Faith and sobbed with all the sorrows of a heroine in Greek tragedy.

"Dawnie….it will be fine. We will survive this , mark my words and ye shall ride with Faith one day, I promise thee", said Oz reaching into his leather jerkin for a stash of tobacco and crossed to the Captain's table rooting for the tools he desired before sitting back down on the edge of the malodorous bed.

But as the girl, no more than an angered creature in a child's façade, raised only her face to the Doctor her fears commandeered her whole. Dawn's body shook with fierce sobs rang out through her tiny frame.

"Dawnie, come hither. I know ye weep for Faith but she would want ye to be most strong, would she not? She taught thee well and I know ye be scared, as are we all, but did she not say when she was not in charge of the ship…then ye are the one who doth stand in her stead. Come now, loose your grip and let her breathe", coaxed the Doctor as he lit his clay pipe and let it's wisps of grey slither through the dank of the cabin.

Dawn gripped tight to the moist body of her sister but, as she filled her heart and bosom with pluck, she slipped off the Captain and sat on the crook of the bed wiping her eyes as Oz ran a hand over her crown proud that one so young could summon such courage.

"Good girl, ye be strong for her. Here, it will do ye good", smiled Oz as he passed the pipe to Dawn whose dry lips wrapped around the long stem as she puffed well.

"D-Doctor! She is but a child, w-why do ye let her smoke?", gasped Buffy.

"It does one no harm Miss Summers, it keeps ye free of the tuberculosis", nodded Oz leaning on his medical knowledge. "Now Dawnie, what do ye need? Tell me _**Cap'n**_ Dawn."

Dawn smiled back through the throat scratching mist and pressed her hands together hinging along her little finger to the base of her wrist and opened her scarred palms flat.

"A story? Ye want a story?", asked Oz taking the pipe back as he uncorked Faith's bottle and swigged well.

"Rum? Do ye think that wise, Sir?"

"I do apologise Miss, where be my manners? Would ye care for a snatch?", he asked waving the half-filled bottle before her eyes which stretched wide.

"N-nay, 'tis not seemly for a lady to tipple thusly", Buffy coughed out relaying the haughty message beaten into her, literally at times, from her finishing school back in London.

"As ye wish. Dawn?"

Dawn nodded back as she took the offered bottle from Oz and threw back a hearty fill of rum which fizzed in her gizzard before wiping her mouth.

"D-drinking too? I…I….do ye…..what do ye….ye swirl her head with rum and….", spluttered out Buffy as Dawn merely rolled her sore eyes at the Lady and stared on with longing at the Doctor who perched on the bed opposite the women.

"Oh hush Miss, it not be like young Dawnie hath ne'er felt the yoke of grog before, is it?"

Dawn shook her head and, as if to show off to Buffy, took another slug of rum and handed the long brown bottle back to Oz.

"Besides, if the grapnels of Hades are to snare us soon, then I see no reason why not. So Dawnie, though I have not the flair for the dramatic like Faith which tale would ye like to hear? How about….ah I know, how about the Lost Mines Of Ampata?"

Dawn nodded with glee as she took the pipe back from the Englishman and drew its tarred blessings deep inside her as her fingers intertwined with her ailing sisters who lay in slumbering silence.

"Well, I will skip the borin' parts as I know which bit ye like the best Dawnie, anyway…"

_**Thirteen months earlier, deep in the Amazon**_

The woman, with breasts agog, screamed in agony as she felt the golden flames lick at her skin as she rolled in the fire. Faith had snatched a burning brand from the pit of flames and crack'd the native woman hard on the noggin sending up a scatter of sparks, splinters and blood afore kicking her firm in the gizzard sending her flailing into the crackling embers. The stretch marked tribal wench cried her pain as her skin scorched well and knocked the simple crafted spit to the ground spilling the flesh yet to be roasted into the mud and ash.

"Run ye bastards….NOW!", yelled Faith with curs'd breath to her crew who moved with devilish flight to their well-worn heels from the smoky embrace of the village into the vast and deadly expanse of the jungle.

The natives, near naked as was their heathen ways, made chase chanting in obscene tongues brandishing their crude weapons of sharpened rock and readying blowpipe aplenty. What remained of The Slayer's crew had spent near two days trussed 'gainst the itching bark of the row of trees in the heart of the village and were forced to watch on in horror and fear as one by one their numbers lessened.

But moments earlier Mr Gunn was untied in the hazy light of dawn and struck back with hammering blows to the sloping jaws of the two native men who were to drag him to the stone altar but ten yards away. He had snared enough time to wrench forth their axes; little more than sharpened rocks lashed to wooden sticks, and sliced the bonds of Faith and Xander who in turn freed their crewmates as Mr Gunn unleashed his fury upon the dazed primitives before him.

The blades and flintlocks belonging to the pirates had been piled around the grey stone altar stained with deep scarlet, and so snatched them up as the rest of the village, now stirred from their slumber, charged with the pace of vengeance.

Faith ducked 'neath the thrust of a spear before ramming her fist into the native's face and kicking him with fury in his free swinging codlings, a cry of pain did escape from his lips which were stretched by the three inch disk. Her blade tore free of its leather scabbard as she slashed it across his face before plunging it deep through his body and sliced him open from navel to neck sending his organs flooding out.

"Mr Gunn, I said flee!", the Captain cried as they fended off the first wave of these primal men whose skin was like well worn saddle leather, whooping and cackling as if possessed by hyena spirit.

She pulled her man, newly promoted to Bo'sun, free of his angered blows as they fled into the suffocating undergrowth. In his hands was a stone tipped axe which he had used to pound the native so many times that this man's head was little more than a paste of shattered bone and crushed brain which dripped like thickened gravy from the axe head.

Faith grabbed his arm and fled with the others into the impenetrable hostility of the jungle, hacking through vines and leaping over coiled serpents as the entire village, now firmly roused gave chase as the jungle became a throbbing mass of screams and shouts, shot and crack.

"Move", yelled Xander as he pulled the unarmed Oz along with him, throwing the Doctor to the reddish earth as a native, far ahead from his pack, swung his club at them with force. It crunched against the noggin of Senor Gerou, oft known as Groo, with a sickening crunch as the silver tongued Spaniard fell to the ground, his skull smashed and teeth spilt freely. Xander had little time to don the cloak of grief for the man whose bravery was unquestioned as he thrust his blade forward deep through the foe's eyes until his blade scratched at the back of the native man's skull before twisting it swiftly and kicked the corpse away to lay in the dry earth before his feet.

"This way!", cried Kennedy as she ran firm and fast alongside Aura as she felt a damnable chill in her heart for death in the field of battle was infinitely more desirable than the fate which awaited them if caught again by this primitive tribe. For now her mind would always be haunted by the begs and screams of Mr Fordham and Rhona as they were lashed to the stone altar, their skin slowly peeled and feasted on while their hearts still beat. The native's even fighting each other over who would have the honour of tearing the captive's eyes out and eating them as their victims cried in agony, it was not until the flesh was torn free of the bone by clamouring fiends that the grim mercy of death came down for them.

"Stop!", cried Xander, swift of heel as any, and grabbed Kennedy's arm for his keen eyes had caught the gap of trees in their path. Their run had come to a sudden halt as they stopped on the cusp of a sheer rocky precipice cascading down, a drop of two hundred yards or so stood before them with a wide uninviting expanse of a deep river snaking along the bottom, a thriving swirl of rapids and jagged rocks.

"Oh sweet Lord, now what?", cried Anya as she caught up with them, her cutlass dripping with blood and sinew wrenched from the foul creatures intent on devouring them piece by pain smothered piece.

"W-we have no choice…..we fight 'til we breathe no more!", roared Kennedy firmly as such a drop from the cliff face would surely kill them as sure as facing the hordes of tribesmen who pursued them with naught but bloody sacrifice on their pagan minds.

Faith fought wildly as she made sure her crew were disappeared into the depths of the jungle, her flintlocks snapped out as native men fell to the roar of well-aimed shot. Her father's blade did sing it melody of bloodshed as the rear-guard action of Faith and Erik was peppered with the spill of gullet and the skewer of scrotum. They broke free of the fighting and fled towards the call of their shipmates and ran as if flaming embers had been infused to their soles.

"Aghh…Faith!", came the cry from behind her.

She span to see Erik, an educated man who sought out the thrill of life, lying on the ground with the ugliness of a thin arrow through his leg. His thigh well bayonetted as he cried in pain, Faith stopped in her leather boots and started back for him but merely three score yards yards away were the babbling throng of hungered natives whose blowpipes filled the air around her with tipped darts snapping into the leaves around her.

She looked down at her fallen shipmate and then back at the hollering natives who were painted in ochre and wore bone through their nose as if trinkets torn from the corpses of slaughtered foe. Her heart wrenched but she had but one choice.

"I'm sorry my friend", she said sadly as she reached behind into her wide belt.

"No!", Erik cried back with terror widened eyes as she cocked her last loaded pistol and spat it's deadly shot through his head with a furious crack, bursting his brain though the back of his head in a vile spill of gore.

"Erik!", shouted the humourless deckhand Christopher as he watched in horror as his own Captain killed his best friend in cold blood.

"No time. Come on, ye lamsy knapper", Faith snapped as she dropped her spent pistol to the insect strewn ground and grabbed his arm and dragged Chris, dazed of head and heavy of soul, through the slap and claw of leaf and branch.

"We have to jump", said Xander peering over the edge of the cliff face.

"Nay, we stand an' fight", snorted back Kennedy as she rummaged in her bandolier, gifted to her by Faith at the start of their dread journey, for more powder or shot.

"We have no other way out"

"Hold yer watchings Xander, nothin' on this earth can make me take such a leap", she replied with fierce determination as she craned her head forth to spy the twist of the river far below.

"Ken!", yelled a rasping voice from behind her making the sore knuckled woman spin on her heels.

"Wha…..", but her words were punched from her as Faith's shoulder drove hard into Kennedy's stomach in a tackle which sent them both plunging over the cliff, flailing wildly in the wet hot air of the jungle.

Falling.

Falling.

Falling.

'Til they hit the river with a loud splash, the wind knocked from them as the swift menace of the river snatched them on its journey as the rest of the crew too followed in their wake. The native men stood high above and threw down spear and rocks as they watched their sacrifices be swept away in the rapid swell which slammed their bodies into boulder and branch alike as they fought for breath in the fizzing swirl.

"A-Anya", Xander spluttered out as he reached for his doughty lover who span and tossed in the jiggle of the river, their hands mere inches apart as death had not finished spinning its web of torture just yet. It's toys not yet ready to pluck from this world.

"Xan…I…hell be…ahhh", she cried back as her leg struck a fallen log and crack'd in twain. The snap, though muted by the wail of the river, still rung true but her lover thrashed his way 'til her body was in his arms.

The tumult of the fast flow hurled them around with abandon as Aura gripped tight to the imposing body of Daryl, as did his brother, as the gush of fuming waters sped them fast away from the village of wickedly desired warriors.

"I…Fai…ahhhh…", cried Kennedy as her lungs filled fast.

"I got ye", called back Faith o'er the frothing waters, her hand not leaving Kennedy's bandolier the whole time and held her close keeping her head above the brim of the water. Though the latina thrashed like a maiden being exorcised her Captain would not relinquish her grip though their skin scraped 'gainst the rocks leaving them bloodied and bruised. The river did wend them down the ravine past the crumbling rockfalls and low slung trees from whence they came, albeit by drier paths.

'Twas near three miles later that the raging waters stilled to a calming blue and the crew struggled to the shore, their lungs heaving with water as they pulled themselves from the river trudging into a heavy silt mudbank.

"Ken….be ye….alright?", wheezed out Faith as she forced herself to her feet dragging her loyal First Mate upright who, in the flash of shot, span round and let her fist fly firm and true as it struck Faith in the jaw sending her sprawling into the mud landing with an undignified splat.

"W-what the hell, Ken?", groaned the Captain as she rolled over, sword still in hand, struggling once more to her knees as her clothes, hands and face were swathed in the thick black mud of the shore.

"If you _**ever**_ do somethin' like that again!", threatened Kennedy as she threw down her sword in frustration and wiped the crust of dirt and twigs nestling in her darkened hair.

"What?", scoffed Faith as she rubbed her bruising jaw.

"I….damn ye for a pottick", Kennedy sighed and outstretched her hand to Faith hauling her to her feet before feeling the flush of contrition wale through her. "It be…just….ye could've said something'".

"Would ye have jumped?", quizzed Faith with the seeds of acrimony harvesting well in her voice.

"Well…..nay"

"Saved yer life though, did it not?", smiled the Captain as she turned to see the remainder of her crew slopping back onto dry land.

"Aye", Kennedy replied with the hint of a smirk knowing that her fears would have surely seen her slain by arrow or the cruel feasting of heathen men.

"Ahn, ye alright?", said Xander as he helped his lover ashore who tottered on one limb as her shattered bone hung lazily to one side.

"What do ye think?", she spat back through a fierce visage of pain.

"Oz, we need yer help", Xander called out with fraught.

"Aye…just allow me a minute", the Doctor coughed back purging the water from his chest but was thrust back down into the mud by Christopher who barged forth with his sword drawn to the Captain.

"How could ye do that to him ye bitch!", screamed the younger of the brothers Epps, the notorious highwaymen who plagued the roads of Connecticut before they fled to sea.

"Do ye think I _**wanted**_ to kill Erik?", snapped back Faith whose own blade came up in a flash sounding out the clash of forged steel.

"Ye had no love for him"

"Aye, but I had no wish for his death either. If I had stopped an' carried him we _**both**_ would've been caught and by nightfall be butchered. If I had just left him there while I fled….ye saw what happened to Rhona and Billy, Erik would have spent his final hours in agony, that is no way for a pirate to die", parried the Captain for she wished not to have taken the life of one of her own but she was left with little choice.

"B-but he was my friend", said Chris as his tears slipped free and his sword weighed heavy in his shaking hand.

"I be sorry for ye Chris, but ye know I had no choice", she replied as she too lowered her sword as she crossed over to Mr Gunn, but did not dare turn her back to the sobbing man who was comforted by the snarl of his brutish brother who eyed her with menace.

"Cap'n…I…", seethed out Mr Gunn as he sat with a grimace plaguing his handsome features.

"What be wrong Mr Gunn?", she asked seeing his pain but no slash nor bludgeon did his skin bear.

"It be…argghhh", the one time janissary heaved out.

"Let me see….damn", Faith sighed seeing the small thin dart in his neck, the blowpipes were well used and she feared what venoms these tips would hold. She pulled it free and ran her tongue over the pointed edge and spat its vile taste into the mud.

"What is it, Cap'n?", asked Oz as he looked at the pain flickering across Mr Gunn's face.

"Naught yer doctorin' can help with, but Oz, hold him firm…..Mr Gunn, this may hurt a bit", Faith said as she pressed her mouth to the small wound and sucked heartily like a woman who had shirked her morals and plied her age old trade in the gunnels of Harlow. Her full lips sealed around the small prick and she drew forth the poison which spilled a flavour of reptillian pourings onto her palate and spat it free, repeating her actions ignoring the writhing and mewls of Mr Gunn until she tasted naught but the rich copper tang of untainted blood.

"God, Mr Gunn….be not such an infant", she grunted as her face pulled from his sweating skin, "There, all done"

"Ahh….hell's teeth that hurts", said the Bo'sun with a twisted sneer for he had heard strange tell of the venoms of those native to these godforsaken lands.

"Ken, in yer bandolier…third pocket along", said Faith as she watched her First Mate fumble with the leather straps before tossing her a small ceramic vial which was thankfully unshattered from the crashing of the rocks.

"What is it?", asked Mr Gunn as he felt anxiety's swash within him.

"Oz, rub this on his wound for a day or two and he'll be fine. Good man, Mr Gunn", the Captain said as she gave him a hearty pat on the shoulder in utmost respect.

"Urh, what is this witches brew?", scoffed the good Doctor as he uncorked the top and the foul scents wafted free.

"Tis a lotion which heals most anythin', ye would be wise to learn of such things"

"Pfft, I think not", said Oz in a lowly pitch as he trusted not the home remedies of superstitious bumpkins for they be naught but muddle headed hokum, his training at St John's medical school left him in fine stead to cure all ailments 'pon sea or land. Or so he arrogantly believed.

"Cap'n, thank ye", said Mr Gunn as he felt the stinging salve slather over his small wound.

"Nay, thanks Tara for she has ne'er steered me wrong with her potions", she said back wryly.

"Who?"

"Tara.…oh aye, ye have yet to meet her. One day Mr Gunn, ye shall see", Faith said with absent mind as she looked around at the desolation surrounding them, naught but thickened vines and a never ending swathe of trees as even though the dense heated air lay heavy around the crew they still shivered in their soaked rags.

"I be sick o' this", grunted Daryl as he sat on a felled vine wrapped log with his brother, his eyes burning with disdain, "Weeks we been out 'ere an' lost most we came ashore with, an' for what? No sign o' the mines an' we got th'Dupont hunting us down, an' worse than that, we got to take orders from a feckin' jamboon". He nodded his head towards Mr Gunn whose teeth gritted well under the Doctor's careful attentions.

"What say ye, ye mangy lugger?", Xander spat back as fought to free the stones lodged in his boot.

"Ye know what I say be true", sneered Daryl from 'neath his pronounced forehead as he placed one of his long paws on the shoulder of his grieving brother, "He should be tillin' with a sack o' cotton instead we got us a nigger tellin' us….."

"Watch yer tongue, bastard! Mr Gunn be a damn good man who we be most indebted to, if it were not for he then we would still be lashed to in the village awaiting our doom", growled Mr Harris for though he had heard the faint rumbles of discontent these past few days he wished not for them to ferment within the breast of pitiless cullies like the Epps brothers for Xander knew of the their appetite for bloodshed where innocence and sense were both cast aside.

"Mr Harris, find what ye can t'fashion a raft. With luck we can follow the river an' find our way back t'the coast", called Faith, out of earshot of Daryl's devious mutterings, as she and Kennedy pulled at the broken branches scattered along the bank.

"Back?", roared Chris as she snapped to his feet, his anger devouring his sorrow quick as she stepped towards Faith, "We be givin' up, after all we lost we be goin' back empty handed?"

"Aye, it were a fools notion for we will ne'er find these damn'd mines. I wish it were not so but father always said…."

"Damn yer bloody father, we will _**not **_be headin' home 'til we be laden with the riches o' the amazon", shouted Chris as once more his sword swung up.

"Ye watch yer mouth afore I silence it", said Faith in an even voice which belayed the powder igniting in her veins that her father's name be sullied by such a cur.

"Nay Cap'n", added Aura, near forgotten about such was her redundancy amongst their crew, as she drew her short twin daggers, "Ye fail me Faith, ye fail us all"

"How dare ye, ye slivey lil' poxer! The Cap'n has ne'er sailed us wrong, this were a curs'd venture from the start but I will ne'er hold Faith accountable", yelled Kennedy as she flicked up her sword with her mud encrusted foot and stood shoulder to shoulder with Faith.

"Ye would say ye harlot, ye have both lead us on a pilgrimage o' death, we want no more of it", grunted Chris, his eyes veiled in bloodlust. "We've tired of yer ways for the longest time"

"The time has come, Faith. Time for a new Cap'n", said Daryl as the hulking thug with neatly sliced nostrils came near his brother, drew his pistol and aimed it at her head.

"Ye intend to shanghai _**my**_ ship? And ye think that The Slayer will sail with _**ye**_ as skipper to herald them on the path to glory? Just who was it who stole us the map in the first place?", accused Faith through grinding teeth.

"Aye, but we did not foresee it would lead us into hell.", added Aura as she stood by the brothers Epps with her blades drawn well and poised with deadly commitment.

"Drop yer pistol Daryl", warned Xander as he came round behind Faith showing his loyalty even unto death.

"Nay…. adios Faith", the broad shouldered cur grinned back as once he was back on board The Slayer Daryl would take the vessel as his own and plunder realms which Faith had deemed forbidden.

"That's _**Captain**_ Lehane to ye, ye treacherous swine", Faith replied as her blood became molten and burning.

"Fair thee well then _**Captain**_ Lehane. Ye have no breastplate to save ye now", Daryl grinned back as he drew his pistol up to her face.

"Ye invite death Mr Epps for it will not be a simple nose slittin' for ye this time. Do ye wish to walk the plank shackled to a long nine or should I flay ye alive 'pon a gun carriage? ", snarled Faith as her knuckles whitened around the hilt of her father's sword for though her cup of sin did overflow well, mutiny was a crime punishable in but one way.

"And be those yer last words? I will make sure Oz makes a note of it in 'is diary", said Daryl as Faith recalled two months earlier when deft inaction and the hum of deceit lead to the capture of young Molly who felt the snap o' rope before word of her capture even reached back to The Slayer.

Though Daryl had escaped with merely the slicing of his nose it were the sandluggin' oirster Violet, who had slipped into a deal with the Flemish to surrender The Slayer in peaceful accord, who felt the razored barnacles, which clung well to their hull, slice her flesh to ribbons as the Captain ordered her keelhauling. She were near death 'pon the first drag and so was sent back under where her blood spewed forth into the great briny, as her body, naught but a sack of bones and sorrow, was slowly hauled back across the hull Faith sliced the rope letting her corpse float out to sea to be feasted on by the gilled vermin as she wanted not to see the vile woman's lying eyes again.

"Daryl, think man. Ye have been fresh pluck'd from the river, yer shot will not fly", implored Xander.

"Pah, I hold my stashing in waxen seals an' filled my pan but a minute ago. Ye forget my one rule – always keep thy powder dry", Daryl said as he pulled the trigger.

The flint snapped into the pan as it flashed true but as the thin wisps of smoke trailed away Faith still stood defiant in front of him.

"I…I…what…", he gasped.

Faith merely smiled as she held out her hand and let his only two balls of shot fall to the mud.

"And ye forget, cully, _**my**_ one rule – I trust ye not 'til ye have earned it. I took yer shot while ye slept the night before we were captured by the natives, but it will not be the only balls of yours I shall take", she growled as her blade caught in the sun.

"Damn thee to hell, Cap'n!", yelled Chris as he lunged forward with his sword which bore many a well-defined notch.

Faith's own shaft of steel sprang into life as she blocked his sword from using her dimples as a bullseye. His both hands gripped its hilt for what he lacked in skills he made up for in ferocity, as swords snickered and snacked in the heavy wet air of the Amazon Faith let him attack full heartedly as she stepped back further out of sight into the twisted vines and wide veined leaves.

"Nay, I shall not fall to filth like ye. Drop yer sword or I shall add yer scream to those who I have vanquished t'the halls o' the damn'd", offered Faith though even if Chris did yield he would still feel the run of blade or the burn of rope to snuff his life.

Just to her side Kennedy's clenched fist slammed into Daryl's hardened jaw, his knee near buckling from her vehement kicks but he was a brute who had felt more pain than that being served by the latina. He slammed his big fists down on her back and threw her around as if she were little more than a rag doll stitched without care, his hands grabbed her round the throat which, instead of lessening her resolve, triggered a maniacal surge within the First Mate and threw fist and foot at any touch of skin she could find. Her thumbs digging deep in eyes which saw little mercy as he stumbled into Aura who pushed him back away.

She span back around and twirled her twin daggers, swinging them with all the skills she had learned from her circus kin, colliding with the sharp ring of metal 'pon metal as Xander fought to block her attack. Ferocious metallic lullabies forged in far off lands sang out through the jungle as Aura felt the rush of victory as her knives, capped with a heavy silver embossing, tasted the first drops of Xander's blood as the thin silver edges wielded by the balding woman sliced through his sun beaten skin. As his arms and chest offered their crimson blessings Xander's sword was toyed with by the two daggers knocking it in jest for Aura could finally put this man in the earth where he belonged as then there would be no obstructions 'tween her tongue and Anya's moistened gusset.

"Aura….spider!", yelled the weakened Mr Gunn from the tree against which he found rest, his hands launching the deadly beast at her.

Aura screamed back and dropped her guard as no spider struck her in the face but a bundle of dried leaves, but 'twas the advantage Xander needed as he struck her hard in the face with the knotted hilt of his blade before plunging it deep through her blackened heart 'til it snaked 'tween her ribs and out her back.

Xander slumped back as he curs'd himself for slacking in his swordsmanship of late as he nodded to Mr Gunn in easy gratitude, but his head snapped round as Faith crashed through the thick foliage with Chris, his nose shattered and eye near swelled shut, rampaging after her.

She parried his blow as fighting broke free on the banks of the river for it maddened him so that Faith had not suffered so much as a nick of blade while he bled like a calf come yuletide. He flailed furiously at Faith who easily blocked his frantic slashing as she slipped behind trees and ducked his blade further infuriating him. The brothers Epps had been the first ones to whisper in treacherous tones near a week ago, the rumblings of discontent spreading fast through the straggling crew who would ne'er have headstone or the brief courtesy of prayer to mark where they would lie. She ducked a wild swing as she sliced him swiftly across his stomach, a thin razoring of flesh as he fell to his knees and caught his steaming intestines as they spilled forth with a slopping sound. He gasped as he felt the warm slimy entrails sliding through his callused fingers as he whined in panic whilst he tried to hold his innards back.

He looked up with eyes like the moon as Faith, not finding her foe worthy of a last mock ridden string of words, swung her sword hard and sliced its slender edge through his neck until it stopped with a thump as it hit bone, she slid it free and hacked again from the other side sending his mutinous head into the mud which landed with a horrid muted thud as his severed stump spurted torrents of blood into the air.

"Chris!", yelled the brutish Daryl as he kicked the bruised and battered Kennedy away into the river, he watched helpless as his headless brothers corpse fell into the deep mud.

"Ye see Daryl, ye raise hand to me an' ye pay with yer life. Drop yer sword an' I will kill ye swift", said Faith as her fatigue was starting to unveil itself.

"Die ye bitch!", Daryl screamed as he snatched the idle cutlass from Xander and backhanded him to the ground, the robust blade in the hands of this homunculus carried his strength and forced her back into the undergrowth from whence she came as they battled into a clearing.

Her blade, still warm from the blood of Chris, swung hard as it flexed well under his thick blade as it came down hard sounding out the clatter of impending death. Spinning round a tree Faith kicked him viciously in the ribs and swung an elbow hard into the face but he was a monster possessed by rage and he would not stall in his quest to spill every last drop of Faith's blood. The tang of metal sparked forth as they fought in demonic fevered twists. But as he swung his mighty blade down the Captain dodged to one side and his sword severed a branch 'till only a ten inch sliver of sharpened wood remained, she rolled through and leapt back up striking him with a mighty kick to the chest sending him reeling back and he screamed as the pointed branch ran through his back impaling his bloated body well.

His cutlass fell to the ground as he coughed meekly, his words choking on the blood filling his pierced lungs.

"Send my regards to _**him**_", Faith seethed as picked up his cutlass and slammed it across his throat embedding the sharpened blade firm into the tree. She looked down as his head fell free and bumped off her well blistered foot, rolling away until it knocked into an empty shell.

But the Captain's ire had been unleashed by the seditious vermin she once proudly called shipmates and ran her own sword through the severed head thrice more, her anger spiralling through her mind until her blade bent on the crack of skull.

"Fai, it be over", said Kennedy gently as her soaked form, now pulled from the river, came through the brush with Xander in tow who bled with sly tempo.

"Aye…..but let us ne'er speak of this again.", she said with laboured breath before resheathing her blade cloaked in the crimson of treachery.

They limped back to the river, their limbs aching and fresh cuts weeping its scarlet gifts but stopped in their tracks as they heard a chorus of flints being cocked. Staring up Faith saw Mr Gunn, Oz and Anya on their knees with their wrists firmly bound before a hearty dozen Frenchmen with their muskets aiming for the Captain.

"Bonjour Mademoiselle Lehane", smirked the Dupont de Leguillies as he held forth his flintlock with a thick soup of hatred clogging his narrow eyes.

**.**

…_**..**_

**.**

"And then what happened?", asked Buffy hanging on the Doctor's every word as was Dawn who had tapped her pipe on her heel for they had been swallowed whole by the tale.

"Well, as we all know that gold is but the oil to loosen the mechanics of truth the…."

But before the Doctor could continue his unique brand of yarnspinning their intense attention was shattered by a high pitched screech firing out of Faith that could split the ear and splinter the colon of any beast as the Mary's Blood unleashed a full broadside of agony into her, choking away the comfort of the laudanum 'til all she felt was a seething pain scouring her body.

"Faith!", yelled Buffy as she and Dawn were kicked from the bed by the Captain whose limbs struck out in the throes of pains of such design that Lucifer himself had dared ne'er venture unto man.

"Christ in heaven, it has returned!", yelled the Doctor as he grabbed at the pirates arms glazed in her heavy sweat.

"I though ye said it would still her 'til morn?", asked Buffy in panic as she pulled Dawn away from the threat.

"Well, I were wrong.", stated Oz bluntly as he grabbed at Faith's wrists before the full tumult could rear its deformed head.

"S-should I fetch more laudanum?", asked Buffy in worried tone.

"Nay, any more and she will slip into a sleep she will ne'er wake from. We have no choice but to let her fight it out, quick Miss Summers, help me"

"O-of course…..how?", said Buffy as she could see that no kiss would placate the fire within the buccaneers veins this time.

"The rope o'er there, grab it. Dawn, four half shanks if ye please", ordered the Doctor but the young girl froze in terror, "Now Dawn!"

Snapping from her daze Dawn quickly knotted the ropes as her filthy Monmouth cap fell from her head unleashing her lank and lifeless hair down her shoulders to near the base of her ribs.

"Good, now one round each limb. Quick, we must lash her to the bed afore she snaps her own spine with her writhings, do it now I say!", yelled Oz as he pulled back the sheet and cast it to the floor as Faith's dignity once more shrivelled away though she knew not of its weathering.

Buffy hesitated as her hazel eyes swallowed the sight of the pirate's glowing skin, the hardened peaks upon each breast stood proud as if an enticing summit to alabaster mounds. They heaved in the fetid air of the cabin as her legs kicked as if they be purloined from a mule about to be gelded. As they splayed with vigour Faith's moistened crevice, which bore little in the way of tufts, shone bright as if to beckon the lap of tongue or the swirl of finger. Buffy's breath barbed deep within her bosom as she watched the limbs start to thrash and buck as the dread pirate succumbed to the flow of poison and her skin, from rounded nib of toe to well pluck'd eyebrow, did present its sheen as an offering to ignite the senses of Buffy.

"Now Miss Summers, afore she finds blade in her hand!", shouted Oz for he feared in her desperation to rid herself of the Mary's Blood Faith would, in her maddened state, slice open wrist or throat. And mayhaps not her own.

Buffy snapped from her hypnotic trance and leapt forward looping the coarse rope around each of Faith's ankles as Oz held them steady before slipping the binds around the pirates wrists and bound them to the ornately carved corners of the bed. As the Doctor tightened each knot and pulled taut the excess he breathed heavy as Faith was now helpless as a new born for she was spread-eagled on her bed tied as if she were but a woman who craved bizarre indulgences in the boudoire.

The passing of sand in hourglass this last day had brought forth such a tumult of feelings for Buffy, her disdain had slithered away and now something else blossomed in its place. Far more than a tolerance for the ways of the pirate, though she wished that Faith be cured and lucid so she could vent her spleen at her, the misgivings which marched within Buffy's mind could, she surmised, be wrung free by firing her angst with full broadside at the woman who had sowed its seeds in her heart. Buffy wanted to spit forth her perplexity at the buccaneer for then she could wash her guilt and confusion free of her mind and thus set sail with an unblemished mind towards her fiancé.

"Cap'n….hold still….there ye go", Oz grunted as he forced Faith's gleaming teeth wide and slid a knot of rope 'tween her pale lips and torqued it off well by the savage scar behind her right ear, a parting gift from the Pasha of bâb al-Bahr.

Dawn watched on with horror as her sister struggled against her bindings, they were of rough weaving and would burn her skin well as Faith yanked and pulled in desperate flinchings as the venom eroded her soul like a tide of sulphur.

"B-but Sir, why did you gag her? For I think bondage suiteth her not", asked Buffy as she wiped her brow, also well slickened but not through exertion.

"I fear the agonies will worsen Miss, soon she will languish in the pit of madness and in its throes….she will bite off her own tongue", he said sadly avoiding the heart breaking gaze of Dawn.

"B-but we still be so far from the island of the witch. W-will she hold on long enough to…"

"I….I fear not Miss, the poison is too well latched to her own blood. I fear by the witching hour her heart will cry in surrender and beat no more. There…..there is something I must do", said the Doctor with heavy heart as he bounded to the table and tossed aside gourd and gauntlet alike until in his hands he held the Good Book flipping it open to a page he regrettably knew well.

"Faith…hear me…do ye repent your sins and…"

"W-what are you doing?", squawked Buffy seeing how such a learned man had fallen upon such a crutch for she knew it be the last refuge for the desperate.

"'Tis penance Miss Summers, then anointing….and viaticum. Though she no longer utters her prayers unto the Lord I still believe a place in the Kingdom awaits her, her father spoke unto her the word and if Faith were of lucid mind I know she want….the last rites", said Oz with near muting.

"Noooooo", cried Dawn as she ran forth and kicked the Doctor to the floor, the leather bound bible crashing down by his side as, before he could cry out his pain, he heard a faint whimper followed by a loud cocking.

Oz stared up to see Dawn, her eyes spilling a torrent of anguished tears and her small hands shaking well as she pointed the small flintlock at his heart. At Faith's insistence Dawn kept it with her at all times when out of sight of the Captain and now it stared down with lethal glare at the Doctor.

"D-Dawn…..Dawnie please", he stammered for he knew of the young girls temperament and resolve when it came to familial matters, but it would not be the first time Dawn had taken a life in defence of those she loved.

"Nooooo", cried the girl as she put another hand on the ivory stock of the pistol to steady her hand.

"Dawnie, just calm yourself. I…I were wrong…..she be strong enough to make it….I were just…", spluttered out the Doctor, his lies bearing little to console the young girl.

"Oz!", came the fear struck yell as Xander slammed through the cabin door, "I….I…oh…we…..oh"

The one eyed man, drenched and harried by the lash of the tempest still raging outside, stopped in his sodden footpads as he looked on at Faith whose glazed eyes matched the slick of her skin as she pulled with Samson's will on the ropes. His words strangling well in his throat as, for a fleeting moment, he thought to have snared a glimpse of heaven's pledge, but seeing Dawn standing o'er the felled Doctor with the twin vexes of pain and anger parading on her face, Xander knew well that the Pearly Gates offered no such acts.

"In the name of Jobe what be wrong Xander?", asked Oz as he slithered back towards the man who dripped with salted pelts.

"W-what? I…er…..oh Doctor, we need ye out on deck. 'Tis a…..we _**need**_ ye", the Cox'n's words suddenly wending towards solemn territory.

"For the love of….I be right with ye. Miss Summers, watch Faith well and if the opportunity presents itself try to slip a little rum down her gullet, it's all I can give her", said Oz as he swung his cloak over his shoulders and followed Xander back out to the scour of the storm which, for the time being, seemed less deadly than remaining in the cabin, the door slamming fast and hard as they left.

The pistol dropped from Dawn's hands as she wept for she longed to feel the embrace of her sister but seeing as how Faith was near asyluminable at this point the young girl felt a surge of emptiness and loss wash through her. As she curled into herself Buffy wrapped her arms around the poor girl from behind and just felt the intense quivering of the girl's body as they stared across the cabin.

In this moment Buffy felt so wrong for in her arms was a child seeking a comfort she could bare provide. Outside were a storm of such magnitude that within seconds could loose her from this mortal coil. It seemed but yesterday when she was faced with such perils Buffy would lay her eyes upon the hallowed words of scripture, but now her gaze refused to wrest free from the form of Faith which flushed like a grog swilled old soak.

Naked.

Bound.

Gagged.

Glistening with sweat.

'_Lord, please deliver me from this torment. I feel things I know I should not, but if it were a wrongness to show me these things then why do ye present them afore me? Please…. I know not what to feel what to do. Lord, if it be a sin to think these things I do, then why do ye fill my heart with the yearning to press my lips to hers?'_

But Buffy's mind would not be soothed for as she held dear to Dawn they flung forward as The Slayer fell deep into a furrow of tide, crashing the waves across from demonic prow to quarterdeck.

"W-what in blazes be goin' out there?", said Buffy as she heard the turbulence from the harangued crew ring out.

"Haul away, damn ye!", cried Xander as he and Spike pulled hard on the rope, as their muscles strained they yanked the rope anchored well by Willow and Kennedy who had been ducked and tossed for manys the minute.

Marcie and Amy slid down from the rigging though the breath of a bitter Goddess tried with all her will to blow them into the murky depths, but their hands were strong as their hearts and as they stumbled around the deck under the lash of heavy waves which hammered down on the seawashed pirates.

"Haul I says", grunted Spike through a splutter of rain and wave as the women now helped too.

They pulled until their eyes were ready to burst and their lungs fit to splinter, but the tackle whirred with the spin of rope as they dragged the maid and the pirate back on board clambering for the safety of The Slayer.

Willow collapsed on the deck gasping for air, salted water had purged her innards well and when, with Kennedy in her arms, they were slammed hard into the side of the ship she twisted her thin body and let the full slam pound into her ribs and now as she struggled to her feet she felt as if she were beaten most viciously .

"C'mon lass, let's get ye below an'….", the storm razed Spike started before Willow shrugged him off and launched herself down at the side of Kennedy as they unfastened the coil rope from around her waist.

"D-doctor….is she…..does she still breathe?", said Willow with a panic seeping into her words which were strained to be heard in the thrashing of the tempest.

Oz pulled the doused latina close into his Pilgrims shirt and slapped her face hoping to rouse her for they could not lose her as well as Faith. In the violent punishings of the storm which lilted the ship with menace they dragged Kennedy to the shade of the bulwarks as Oz pulled her blackened eyes open searching for the flicker of life.

"S-she does not breathe", said Oz in disbelief as he cradled Kennedy in his arms.

Cold.

Silent.

Still.

His stiff upper lip wavered for though Oz was a most stoic of gentlemen his heart was as full as any on The Slayer, especially for a winsome and proud warrior of the tides such as Kennedy.

Willow sobbed as she knelt by the mass of knotted hair and swept it off Kennedy's face as the presence of the storm seemed to fade away around the maid for she could hear naught but the angered thud of her own heart. Her fingers ran over the lips of the pirate which were now tinted with a chilling blue hue and Willow felt a bitter echo of remorse stampede through her as but one faint sound did slip from her sorried lips.

"No"


	10. Chapter 10

_**(Thanks to noobsdog for help with extispicy details, ltlconf, Riochix, and DragonWriter17 - RIP ;) but also to FireTigerLily who unwittingly named the Isle, and anyone else who's read or reviewed, you mean so much to me. I love ye all, arrrr!)**_

.

.

"Kennedy…wake up…please!", squealed Willow as she snatched the drenched and silent figure from the arms of Oz who knelt in reverential silence, paralyzed by his sorrow which unsheathed its malevolent blade and pierced his heart 'til its hilt, engraved with despair's foul art, crack'd his chest.

"Miss…s-she…..she…be dead", Xander forced from his quiversome lips as she scratched at his wiry mutton chops.

"Nay, do not say such things…. I will not let her….quick, fetch me coppered pipe and tobacco!", yelled the redheaded maid as a gruff authoritarian commandeered her timid being. She threw her sodden locks of flame back and let the pasty faced buccaneer drop to the deck with a dull thud as the gentle curve of skull met the still of wetted timber as Willow fought with tempered will to turn Kennedy over on to her front.

Though The Slayer was tempest harrowed and billow tossed, the crew felt not the sharp lash of the storm as they watched the slumped form of their First Mate who would no more bless them with her heart-warming laugh nor the defence offered by her blade. As the pirate flopped over 'til her curvaceous breasts were pressed firm to the deck Willow knelt on her back as she fumbled with the poorly stitched buttons on Kennedy's britches, but as her bony knees, well scuffed from years at blacking the grate and shining her Mistress' shoes, pushed into the back of the latina a low slung groan slithered free from the buccaneer.

"K-Ken?", coughed Xander as he felt his burning tears be swallowed into the fraying material of his eye patch.

The mighty ship listed and pitched as Willow's body once more rose and lunged into the ribs of Kennedy as there, just a touch above a murmur, spilled sound from her blue lips.

The maid's head whipped round in the retreating gloom of the storm to see Kennedy splutter and cough up nary a gallon or so as she clawed for breath to plump her endowments to which her blouse clung tight.

"W..W…Will?", the pirate gasped as the maid slid off and cradled the Latinas head on her lap wiping her twists of hair away from her pale face.

"I-I be here", said the maid who felt not the chill of her dampen clothes as a beacon of joy flamed within her as her lips arced into a most blessed smile.

"By the oil of lamb! Ye scared us most badly, Ken", sighed Xander with relief as he looked down with his sored eye.

Though the sea still crashed around them the storm seemed to lose its lustre for malevolence with waves cresting barely to the wale of the gundeck, as if the good Lord had been appeased by the actions of Willow who had proved herself to be one to tap the casket of home spun valour.

"I…I…", Kennedy coughed and choked as her lungs purged themselves of Poseidon's gift, her head held on the taut thighs of Willow who no longer knew if her eyes stung with the lash of rain or the froth of tears.

"Anya, help me take Ken t'the Cap'n's cabin", yelled Spike as he reached forth to haul the latina to her feet.

"I…nay! I-I am Cap'n an'… I-I need to b-be at the helm for..", she coughed hard as the salt lined her innards well and drained her of all strength.

"Mr Gunn has the helm Ken, he came down from the riggin' an' shoved me aside t'take charge", said Xander with a touch of hurt but as his solitary eye gazed up to the burly negro who gritted his teeth hard and held firm the wheel which fought to spin, he could not help but admire Mr Gunn's courage and determination which was comparable to any who ranked above him.

"B-but…", started the latina as Spike helped her to shaky legs but was cut off by a most insistent plea.

"Nay Ken, ye need to rest a while. To Faith's cabin with ye"

"Wait", stopped Warren as he unlashed his aching body from the creaking capstan, "If Faith sees Ken like this, surely it will vex her more, the Cap'n needs no such distress to add to her pains"

"Aye, well thought….but what do we….", mused Xander for he saw how frail Kennedy had become as her usually cherry bloomed face was gaunt and harried.

"Take her to my cabin, let me tend to her", snapped Willow as she snuffed out her manners and minding of her station as she grasped well to a strength she knew not she possessed.

"N-nay…I need to be at the helm..._**my**_ helm", grunted Kennedy as she fought to free her limpen arms from the grip of her comrades but with her strength near sapped she could do little but flail helpless as penned in guinea fowl.

"Ken, listen to me", said Spike with determined scowl, "Ye have done us all proud, see….the storm's cruel eye has passed…ye did it"

"B-but I…"

"Nay more Ken, ye need yer rest", he insisted and scooped under her arm to help her below decks. Kennedy's legs shook well as she trundled down the wooden steps, her grip barely able to steady her on the lanyards but she soon found herself, in all her sodden and fading glory, on the edge of the bed in Willow's cabin as the redhead draped a warm blanket around the shivering pirate who refused to wrench her glare from the timbers of the floor.

"I sees ye need a touch o'rum", smiled Spike as he pulled out his hip flask and popped it's silvered cap with his scarred thumb.

"Nay, Sir. She needs a warming drink", protested Willow as she poured out some tea, still warm from Andrew's earlier delivery, and helped Kennedy's rigid fingers clasp it well.

"But _**this**_ be warm enough", said Spike with confusion as he drowned his own shivers with a sharp swig of grog.

"Sir, I said nay!", snipped Willow as she held the dainty china cup, though chipped it had served well the Doge of Genoa from whence it were purloined with brazen courage and fortitude, and held it to Kennedy's lips, which still held a shade of blue 'pon them, who sipped it gently feeling the soothing of her throat which burnt well with her purging of lung water.

"Fairs enough then. But I must ask Miss, why were ye tryin' to unbreech Ken?", asked the Englishman as his cocked his woven castor on his misshapen head.

"'Tis the way to save a drown'd soul"

"Eh?", he countered confused.

"Do you not know Sir? All along the banks of the Thames there be copper pipes of about a foot in length, you light tobacco in one end and slide the other up her….well…._rear…._", said Willow as she blushed heavily, "…a-and the smoke pushes the water from them. 'Tis a common practice ", she shrugged wondering why such common medical procedures should be held forth for debate.

"Aye, I heard o'such nonsense…but I be damn'd afore…."

"Spike, ye minsey shanked cully. We need ye here!", came the gruff bellow from the topside shaking him from his brief sanctuary.

"Sorry Miss, I must go…..Ken, rest easy, hear me?", Spike said as he wrapped his soaked oilskins around his shoulders and set forth back into the yielding bluster.

Willow's arm seemed reluctant to withdraw from its draped position around Kennedy's shoulders as the pirate, most bedraggled and crestfallen, shifted uneasily under the warm and kind embrace.

"Kennedy…what is wrong? Why be you so saddened?"

"I…I failed", she replied a bare notch above the shamed whisper of a wick'd child.

"In what way?"

"I let my heart rule my head….I abandoned the helm…..I abandoned _**my**_ crew…..I failed as Cap'n", said Kennedy as she could not bear to wrench her glare from her boots, the cup in her shivering hands near drained.

"I-I would not see such heroism as a failing, y-you risked your life to save me, and I thank thee for it", said the maid with a softening tone.

"But I failed at that too…", snapped Kennedy as her gusto reconstituted within her, "I…I be nothin' compared t'Faith". Her mournful tone weighed heavy in the dank of the cabin as her words quivered greatly as if her tongue was snared by a tearful wake.

Though the fear and panic of the moment had ebbed silently away, Willow felt not her shyness return with the soul eroding sheen she was most comforted by, a bound now echoed within her heart, one that she knew not from whence it came. She reached forward and slid a thin finger under the dripping chin of Kennedy and steered her eyes 'til they met with her own soft orbs.

"Ken, do not think like that. You may not be all that she is…. but you are your own person and should be proud for being so brave and so giving as to risk your life for someone like m-me and…"

"Ken? Y-ye called me Ken", said the latina as her lips betrayed her melancholy as they twitched into the faint ghost of a smile.

"Sorry…..I mean Kennedy", said Willow as she pulled her arm away, suddenly swathing herself in the fraying cloak of timidity.

"N-no…I like it", rushed Kennedy as she feared she had offended the redheaded beauty. Her hands dropped the cup which crack'd on the cabin floor and snared Willow's own dampened palms.

Willow's rush of heady strength had now fleeted and as she wheezed heavy, her breath caught by the barbs of romanticism, she could feel the ache of her ribs and back where the purple of bruises did swarm and gather despoiling her fair skin.

"I know you think of yourself as wallowing in Faith's shadow but you are a most exceptional person and I…I admire thee for it. You were most gallant in trying to save me"

"And I could not even do that, _**ye**_ had to save me!"

"And be that what irks you so badly? That a lowly m-maid rescued such a strong buccaneer?"

"Nay, 'tis naught like that, I think not of ye as lowly and ne'er I will…it be….I am not in the manner of thanking many…but I do thank ye m'Lady….I owe ye my life", said Kennedy as she swallowed her pride though it seemed a most jagged emotion to digest.

"K-Ken…I….I cannot explain what drove me to such determination to save you…er _**us**_…but as you lay on the deck…silent…cold…I….I felt such torments prick at my heart. The t-thought of ne'er seeing your smile or holding your hand again….tell me please, why do I think such things? W-what is wrong with me?", asked Willow with an increasingly fragile voice.

Kennedy's fingers, warming well and held of hostile shiverings, intertwined with the shy maids as if ivy finding root, and squeezed.

"Will….'tis naught wrong with hearing the melody of yer own heart. I know….for when I saw ye swept overboard….my own soul felt the same anguish"

"Ken..I…"

"It be alright m'Lady….d-do ye wish me to kiss ye?", said Kennedy in a slight purr.

"Nay"

"Oh", replied the pirate as her smile washed away.

"I…I wish to k-kiss thee"

Kennedy's heart roared as the maid moved her head forward and pressed her lips to the pirates own, which had now taken on a pinkish tinge, as Willow's eyes flittered shut as her head swam in the veiled eroticism of the moment but she willed herself not to faint away as before.

As their breath trailed away and their lips parted the fading roar of the storm meant little to them, but just feet above them stood the sodden crew of pirates who still felt the reel of the hull and the pounding of the thick grey rain. But the full lash of the storm had relented as if the tidal whims of the Gods had been beaten into submission, as if they stood in their celestial haven in awe of the fierce determination of this crew of scurrilous cut-throats.

"So where is this Tabula Rasa anyways?", asked Anya as Warren heaved the liggers askew to lessen their breadth.

"Alas, I cannot recall", he replied with a shrug.

"Then how will we find it? Mayhaps we should forego such notions as we will only end in a watery grave or at the mercies of some heathen wench", she whined as she forced a hand through her twisted locks and wrung the water from its sodden tendrils.

"Nay, Ken has steered us right an' we must get t'this witch… for I fear Faith will not last such agonies much longer", snorted Marcie in defence as her leather gloves finally relinquished its death grip on the shining Star of David which hung loose around her neck. She cast an anguished eye towards the cabin where, as the roar of the storm veiled the mewls of pain of the Captain, Marcie feared for the woman who had confided in her such intimacies that if ever her tongue were to loose through grog, the very name of Captain Faith Lehane would be stripped of all terror.

Satsu dragged herself across the deck, her deformed feet twisted and bent under her in the small heeled shoes which splashed across the waterlogged decks, though the thunder of the squall had lessened the rain still angled down with fecund menace.

"No Dawnie, do not look", said Buffy as she held the young girl tightly hiding her face from the pained bucks of Faith, the small sobs racked Dawn's body as the tears of the youngster soaked into Buffy's gown. The lips of the Lady were stretched tight as she fought to keep her own fears within.

"Gahh", cried Satsu as she stumbled through the door of the cabin, her crimson dress bedecked with black lace was slit to the succulent thigh and her hair dishevelled and brittle with stray lashings of gentleman's relish.

"Miss, w-what do you mean with this intrusion?", asked Buffy as she backed away slightly from the ships concubine who had traded her chastity for coin many moons ago and thought little of it.

"I hear Faith not good….I thought I could…..oh, I see ye like ropey-ropey", grinned Satsu through a flash of teeth which were browned by the draw of smoke and chipped via the throes of pleasure.

"W-what do you mean", asked Buffy as she waded within embarrassments estuary.

"Ropey ropey", said Satsu as she nodded towards the prone pirate writhing on the bed soaked in sweat, bound and gagged with the roughness of hempen line. "But Faith ne'er like being tied, she like to tie me when her fingers made tickles down low afore her fist…."

"Miss! There is a child present!", snapped Buffy as she tried to cover Dawn's ears from being soiled with the crudity about to slip forth from the Asian woman's much used mouth.

"Pah, Dawnie sleep in cabin here. She has seen much when I visit Faith….right Dawnie?"

The tongueless girl broke her embrace with Buffy and wiped her sore eyes as she nodded, she looked at the mask of shock being bore by the Lady and Dawn wondered why she should be so alarmed with the admittance of pleasure, that carnal delights could be trothed to sin.

"B-but 'tis not right for one so young to be e-exposed thusly", stammered Buffy as she stared on at Satsu who had crossed o'er to the bed and trailed a bejewelled finger along the slick taut stomach of the Captain.

"If Dawnie will grow up like Faith then she need to know how to make lady happy…..she need to know licky spanky", smirked the woman of oft bared gusset as she ran her cracking fingernails ever southwards circling the ravages of scars on Faith's naked form.

"Miss! I warn thee to keep a civil tongue", snipped Buffy as, for reasons she could not fathom, her ire grew more venomous as the concubine toyed with the bound freebooter.

"Aye….I should put my tongue to better use…..unless ye want go first?"

"W-w-what?", squeaked Buffy as alarm mingled with her indignation and clouded her soft eyes.

"I see how ye look at Faith….ye have her tied so….why not kissy-kissy on her yummy lips?", smirked Satsu as she flickered her tongue in and out if serpents taunt.

"Y-y-you….I…I…I….", spluttered out the Lady as her face flushed a fierce scarlet, "How c-can ye talk of such intimacies…..F-Faith is near scissored from this mortal coil, s-see how she languishes so"

"No matter…._**I**_ know how to make happy times with her, it will soothe her"

Buffy's mouth dropped open as her eyes felt defiled with such heathen notions as Satsu ran her thumb along the throbbing lower lips of Faith which glistened in the dim light splaying from the lanterns which swung with the rhythms of the sea. Satsu puckered her lips and rolled her tongue as she lowered her face to the dampened crevice of the ailing Captain, but afore she could taste any sweetened gift Satsu felt the hard crack of the cabin floor as Buffy screamed and pushed her away in a heap of torn silk and guttural snarl.

"Get off of her, harlot!"

"What be wrong with ye? I no charge Faith this time", snorted the concubine as she rushed back to her feet and held her face mere inches from the charmingly bitter scowl of Buffy.

"H-how can you speak so freely of such d-decadence? H-have you no conscience, Miss?"

"Like Faith always say "_Conscience may not stop your actions, merely your enjoyment of them_", so if she suffers… I can make joy come quick"

"H-how can ye be so…so….so vile! Faith be ailing most greatly and ye think of…of…atrocities bestowed only by those of Gomorrah's ilk?", Buffy said with an anger fusing her very bones, she knew not why she had become so territorial as if she were but a beast defending its domain.

"Pfft, I will charge ye but a shilling if ye wish to watch…maybe learn something if ye are to be her licky-licky", said Satsu with a cruelty infested snaking of the lips into a smile which sickened the Lady in a way she had ne'er felt afore.

"How dare you! Your filthiness and impiety hath no place in the company of a lady. Now leave this cabin before I lose myself to temper's whim", said Buffy, her cheeks as pink as Caribbean dusk as the words of Satsu plundered her heart, for even though they be most foul they carried with them airs of legitimacy.

"Be ye threatening me? And what can a fawning hasty witted clackdish like ye….ow!", Satsu squealed as she felt a fierce stinging weft through her cheek from where Buffy, casting off her reticent deportment, slapped her hard and sliced the stodgy air of the cabin with the hearty ring of flesh 'pon flesh.

"Why ye mamsy toothed bitch!", roared back the concubine as she lunged forward and gripped well to a clump of Buffy's wilted hair yanking hard.

"Get off you maggot snuffed harpy!", screamed back Buffy as she too clasped hair into her fists and within an instant the two were locked within a tumult of wails and jerking bodies as they fell to the cabin floor rolling at odds with the swell of The Slayer.

"Bawdy crooked blakesman!", yelled back Satsu as hair was uprooted and braiding torn as their limbs entangled in the struggle, but Buffy had been engulfed within the swirl of enragement so as her face felt the sting of open palm she noticed not the tear of her decolletage which unleashed her fine bosom which jiggled and swung freely.

"You flaxen thieved strumpet!", retorted Buffy as she descended headlong and without hesitance into the pit of primal exuberance and clamped her teeth around the gin based pimples of Satsu's nose and bit firm until the concubine squealed in pained surrender.

"What the…oh, this time I know I _**am**_ dead an' in heaven", wheezed out Xander as he burst open the heavy wooden door of the cabin and saw the tangled bodies splayed out amongst ribbons of torn dress and welting skin.

"Xander…she is gone mad", wailed Satsu as Buffy loosened her teeth and let the weeping concubine reel back.

"Be gone you foul wench o' shivey cunny!", blasted Buffy in return as she gave full broadside with words she knew not she had at her disposal but a fuming had enrichened her very being and cared not that such language would have her feel the birch of Mr Travers if she were back in London.

"Miss Summers…be ye….ye…oh", Xander sighed as his codlings perked up as if tickled by a fanciful breeze seeing the twist of Buffy's limbs punctuated by the glare of her lily hued breasts.

"You get out of here you, bitch!", yelled Buffy to the retreating form of Satsu but as she raised to her feet she caught Xander's singular gaze not rising above her chest. She dropped her own sightings until her eyes blossomed wide seeing her state of undress, "I….oh, Sir. Look away!"

"I..oh….I….", he stammered as he clamped his eye shut but even without sight Xander could almost feel the burning blush of Buffy's cheeks as she snatched up the dampen sheet from the floor to shield her shame.

"Xander….I demand satisfaction", said Satsu as she held her sore and reddened nosetip which bore angered toothmarks which would take the passing of many hours 'til it faded for Buffy had near split skin.

"Indeed, and damn the she that first cries hold…enough.I think you be the last person to demand anything….for you are but a whore!", snarled Buffy.

"Aye.…and?", replied Satsu with a raised eyebrow.

"Miss Summers, I…I am sorry to say but Satsu be right. By the laws of the sea if two aboard a ship break into fisticuffs then they must settle it next time we reach land…..by sword or by pistol", gulped Xander as he knew well the articles of piracy 'pon which The Slayer prided itself on adhering to.

"To the death?"

"What? Nay, the first to draw blood doth win", said Xander hoping that Buffy could find a little comfort in it but the Articles were most rigid and set in stony heart, and even though he knew Buffy would have to face judgment he feared the forthcoming fight.

"I accept….I cut you good, slag", snorted Satsu as the one eyed pirate hauled her from the cabin and back into the dregs of the storm which had faded fast, though the wind still raped the rigging and the lilt of the ship still swayed hard, they had ridden the worst and ahead, within the hour, they would find still waters.

As the door slammed shut with a mighty boom Buffy felt her wrath snuffed out in but the passing of a moment, as she slumped down on the edge of the bed a sudden fear swept through her and tears did cluster.

"D-did I just agree to a…a…a d-duel? T-take up sword and…..oh Lord, please…not again", she sobbed as her head slumped down as if pumped full with lead and her heart ached with a sorrow she had pleaded to stay to buried. A choking breath coiled deep in Buffy's breast as her sparkling tears ran down her stinging cheeks which bore the handprint of the ships concubine, she held a small hand to her face as dread unearthed its tentacles and constricted her very soul 'til she shook with terror. A terror whose truth she could not unburden herself of.

A small cough clattered out past a mangled tongue making Buffy raise her woeful head and bear her mask of sadness unto Dawn. But 'pon the face of the youngling was neither a grimace of disdain nor a sneer of contempt from a pirate but the small and sympathetic smile of a young girl who too knew the savagery of loss. Dawn reached forward with a lace trimmed handkerchief bearing the initials of a near forgotten foe and dabbed tenderly at the salty droplets unleashed from Buffy's eyes.

"Th-thankyou Dawn", Buffy said softly as the young girl sat beside on her the softness of the bed and held her hand, it was a cold and somewhat clammy hand but such a gentle offering shimmered within Buffy's heart and she gripped back and let slip a shaky smile.

"Oh", said the young cut-throat as she saw the tear of Buffy's dress which spilled out her indecency though covered with the well spun cotton of the sheet. Dawn sprang from the bed and drew open the oaken chest carved with the Wilkins family crest and plunged her hands into the mass of material drawing forth clothing of Faith's which had been purloined and bartered for from many distant lands and shattered hull.

Dawn held up one of Faith's shirts, though stained with rum and singed following the run-in with the dey of Tunis who offered pardon in return for setting fire pikes to the hulls of the Spanish corsairs who plundered his homeland, and handed it to Buffy along with velvet britches, weskit and boots.

"Thankyou Dawn", said Buffy greatly humbled at the kindness of such a girl. A girl damn'd to the gallows if ever her fiancé were to catch them, such thoughts disturbed Buffy greatly for surely a man of such gallant heart could be honourable in his mercies to one so young.

Dawn smiled back softly as she took a piece of charcoal and wrote on the side of her picture of frolicking narwhals.

'_I do not like Satsu, Faith deserfes better than her. She shood have the love of a nice Lady. Thankyou for being nice to Faith, B'_

"B? Oh, you heard Faith call me that?", asked Buffy with a blush as she looked at the poor writing skills of the young girl.

Dawn nodded back as if her head were but a palm caught in lofted breeze, briefly casting a snook to her sister whom she had been promised would ne'er lower her topsail in surrender.

"Well you may call me it too, sweetheart", said Buffy with a sniffle as she took the clothes into her arms and stood up still holding the sheet to her naked curves. Her tears had stifled and though she still was burdened most greatly with her sorrows Buffy pushes them aside for, as she caught the sight of Faith biting down hard on the knot of rope 'tween her teeth, she knew that such worries were of a piffling stance compared to the delirious agonies of the Captain.

Buffy turned her back and slipped from her tattered gown 'til she stood in naught but her finely tailored bloomers of lilac colourings, which stretched from the recess of her navel to the midst of her thigh, she could see in the casting of the mirror that Dawn had turned her head to give the Lady a sliver of privacy. But as the reflection shone back Buffy could not help but crack a small smile for the young girl had put her hands over Faith's eyes. Though Faith was still but a murderous scallywag of the seas she had instilled enough morality in Dawn that a true Lady should be treated as one.

Dawn held her hand firm over her ailing sisters face as she bucked and pulled on the restraints, but the youngling would not let her fingers slip as Buffy slid the high cut shirt of voluminous sleeves over her body. Though Dawn knew not whether the sudden burst of writhing from Faith was through the wake of pain or the desire to glimpse a smattering of skin unladen with the smothering of cloth.

"So Dawnie, do you think I look presentable?", asked Buffy as she quickly finished dressing and slipped the knee high boots on smoothing down the plum coloured knee britches which were tightly cut to accentuate the swish of the leg contained therein.

Dawn smiled back and nodded as Buffy tied her hair back loosely with a strip of white ribbon and fastened the last of the gleaming brass buttons on the weskit which hugged her middle well. Dawn took the fallen sheet and flicked it out to gently lay 'pon Faith's nakedness as if a flurry of snow covering plumpened hillocks.

"Thankyou Dawnie, you are such a fine young woman", Buffy replied as she tied the cravat edged with a froth of Mechlin lace and let its half bow hang limp, she craned her head round as Dawn once more took charcoal to the rough of parchment which crackled as she wrote.

'_You look very pretty Miss…..Faith would say so too'_

Buffy blushed heavily as she thought she could see the rise of Faith's bosom sharpen 'pon seeing the dashing yet graceful swathe that she cut in the Captain's clothing. Though Buffy was stripped of her elegant dresses and tinted rouge and was now dressed as if she were but a scurrilous, albeit chivalrous, pirate, she somehow felt freer than she had in the longest of times. Though surrounded by wanted men and women and had even descended into brawling with a common prostitute, Buffy could not help the flourish of joy from within her as she felt as if Faith had pluck'd a naïve wastrel from the seas and unshackled her to begin a life she was yet to live.

Dawn once more wrote on the parchment and held it up with a quizzical frown, _'Do you like Faith?'_

The lady gasped as she looked in the eyes of the youngling which stood on a vulnerable perch for Buffy feared that her tongue would betray her with the truths that were blossoming in her heart.

Truths she found increasingly hard to decry as fearful wickedness.

Before Buffy could stammer out an answer they heard a mighty cry from above decks.

"Land ho!", yelled Johnathan from his place lashed to the crossbeam as he squinted against the cry of rain.

"It be Tabula Rasa!", cried Lorne as he scooped up spyglass to the crags jettying out from the distant call of the horizon.

"But I thought ye said it would not under our prow 'til five bells?", shouted back Anya with confused brow.

"I fear I be not ze seaman that Faith is, but luck has charmed us zo we should accept it, ja?"

"Aye", yelled Mr Gunn as she span the wheel three degrees larboard, "Marcie…give word to loose canvas as soon as ye see fit"

"Aye, aye Sir", she replied as she grasped the rigging and hauled herself up to the lofts of the ship.

"An' with the mercy of the Lord we will feel land 'neath us in but two hours", Mr Gunn grinned as he cast an eye back to the Captain's cabin, "Just hold on Faith….please"

.

.

_**Meanwhile, in the Royal Navy stronghold of Port Swaffham**_

"Joyce, you know I would ne'er betray your confidence so please continue", implored Adelle as she put a hand on her knee in quiet comfort.

"I-I found this letter from my Henry, h-he told of his lust a wandering and…a-and he hath _**another**_ child. A daughter", the widow said with anguish for she knew not whether to pity the child or despise her for she be the product of her husband's foul treachery.

"Good Lord, have you an inkling of who she be?"

"Indeed, it….it be our serving girl, Willow. I always thought Henry to be of philanthropists mettle to keep with us a woman who was great with child, and when she passed Henry insisted that the girl be treated well, to be educated and retained even though a many number of workhouses awaited her"

"Willow? Oh yes, is she not the maid to your Elizabeth?", asked Adelle as she poured them both a cup of tea to steady Joyce's fraught.

"Yes, she and Buffy have been close for so long but I never knew why they had such a kinship. But now I know they are of the same loins…..I fear…."

"Fear what?"

"W-what if Henry's wanderings did not cease with her? There are many servants on our estates we have treated well….such as Kendra. Though she were orphaned long ago Henry made sure Kendra was well looked after and when she became of age we took her on as my ladies maid….but what if _**she**_ is of Henry's loins too? To have but a slave within our family! I-I know not what to do"

"I always thought it be strange that so many of your serving girls be so unblemished", observed Adelle as she sipped from the gilded edge of the patterned tea cup shipped in from New Amsterdam at great expense to the late Governor.

"What do you mean, Adelle?"

"The chances of being employed in fine households are greatly improved if the serving girls bear pockmarked and damaged skin showing that the underlings of the house had already survived the terrible sweep of the pox and so would not succumb nor transmit the disease further. I have seen it many times when I was employed as Governess to many of the finest families both in Bristol and in the New World"

"I see, but that bothers me little for now not only is my Elizabeth lost at sea….now I have a half daughter who is also at the mercy of the waves and hordes of vicious pirates and…..oh Adelle, I do apologise. Here I be telling of my distress when you still suffer such pains", Joyce said sadly seeing the unshed tears gathering in her friend's eyes.

"Fear not Joyce, I have long since admitted that my heart will ne'er heal, but I will always cling to whatever slivers of hope that bring me comfort", replied Adelle with a sad smile which, after near twenty years, still felt fresh sliced with grief's sickle.

"But after so long…you still hold vigil for hope?"

"Indeed, as a mother you should know how when all is darkness in your life….hope is the one salvation to grasp for"

"I-I know", said Joyce wearily as she had prayed for many long nights in the days since word of Buffy's abduction had reached her. Those same prayers filled with hope that Captain Finn would find her and bring her home safely for he truly be a man of the Navy. A man of honour.

"But tell me Adelle, how did you cope when your own daughter was lost?"

"Not lost…stolen"

"But I thought…"

"Nay…Joyce I must tell you….I have not been a good friend to you. I have ne'er told you the whole truth, nor the whole story", said Adelle with a wringing of the stomach as, after all this time, she needed to unburden herself.

"What do you mean?"

"I…I am _**not**_ a Lady. I have no lands, no titles….and no monies. Joyce, I am near destitute", she said with a low head that hurt her deeply.

"B-but I…why?"

"If I say I am a Lady then others will treat me as a Lady, with respect and dignity as you have. If I told you I was….no more than a saddler's wife, would you have brought me into your home as a friend? I think not"

"I…I…oh..", said Joyce as she realised the truth of her friends words.

"My husband, God rest his soul, was the finest saddler in all England. His leatherwork adorned the saddles of Kings and Cardinals alike and we made great monies from his talents, oh my beloved Viktor, how I miss him. I admit that some were surprised at our love for a few years separated us but I loved him like no other and have ne'er taken another to my chamber", she broke off sadly for even after all these years her heart still wore the cruel stitching of a mourner.

"I do not understand, how did you lose all if you were well to do in England?"

"We decided to make a new life in the New World with our baby daughter. When we were ready to sail from Kerrick's rough coast my sister fell ill with the pox so I hurried back to Liverpool to be by her bedside, but I wanted not my husband and daughter to be exposed to such ravages of disease and so insisted they stay in the Emerald Isle 'til I returned. But afore I could….the town were attacked by filthy pirates and he perished under their damnable swords"

"I am so sorry Adelle"

"When first I heard of his demise….the reports said….. I was told that my baby was tied in a hessian sack and tossed overboard as if little more than soiled mutton", said Adelle with such vengeful anger tracing her words that Joyce flinched back.

"Oh my Lord", gasped Joyce that the life of an infant meant such little consequence to the vermin of the seas.

"After that my heart was blackened as pitch and cared not for anything but to find the monster responsible and make him pay. I sold all I had and traded on the title of being a Lady to hopefully lure the cad from his hiding, I crossed the seas near a dozen times but ne'er were we crossed by them. I paid great monies to pirate, privateer and gallowsman alike to find out the truth of where they made port. I scoured every gaol and court for word about who slaughtered my family so callously, I bribed many officials to stay their hand of execution for another morn until I could question them but in Bristol I happened across one rogue who told me different tale. He had turned King's evidence on his Captain who had strayed into piracy in return for his life, he swore on the bible that his words were truth. He said that my baby was not killed but taken and traded….bartered for as if but a mere trinket! "

"Oh Adelle, I can only imagine your pain and hatred for all pirates. Do you know the scoundrel who took your baby and slew your husband?", asked Joyce as she put a hand of comfort on her friends shaking hands.

"'Twas a pirate who went by the name of El Primero. He had fresh turned 'gainst his King, after he burnt the town of Kerrick to the ground his ship made port in the colonies and traded my baby to a drunken harlot so she could avoid gaol or the gallows for the judge in Boston at the time was most lenient on new mothers saying it would be a greater sin to part a mother from a child. _**My**_ darling child used as a bargaining chip for 'tis said that this Captain thought it a greater and more amusing cruelty to sell the child into a life of misery rather than bestow a swift death. Since then I have spent near every penny I have trying to find her, though the harlot in Boston is long since dead I heard tell that my child took to the sea….each night I pray that a friendly tide will bring her back to me but after twenty years….", Adelle trailed off sadly.

"Ma'am, be everything alright?", asked Kendra as she came into the room worried at the tone of words bandied about in the morning room.

"Yes Kendra, please leave us", said Joyce as Adelle shielded her tearful visage from the sallow eyes of the serving girl.

"Yes Ma'am", replied the young girl as she bobbed a curtsy and scampered back to the pantry.

Adelle breathed heavy and steadied her unravelling woe with a sip of lemon infused tea.

"When my monies ran dry I became a Governess in Virginia but raising the happy children of others only compounded my misery so I fled to this isle where a Lady is afforded leniency and need not pay her bills on time. I know that it most likely my daughter perished many moons ago but I just wish to know where she is buried so I can grieve my last for her. To finally sleep without those innocent doe eyes haunting my dreams, I just wish I knew where I could lay wreath for her…for my darling Caroline"

"Oh my dear Adelle, I had no idea you suffered such cruelties. Why did you not trust in me to tell me your horrors?", said Joyce sadly as she watched her friend dab her tears away.

"I am so sorry Joyce, I wanted not to tarnish our friendship with your pity. I can ne'er apologise enough for betraying your trust all this time…I understand if you wish to cast me from your house and henceforth call me not your friend…"

"Adelle, friends are more than just monies and titles. Now my _**friend**_", Joyce enthused with a soft smile, "I insist you come and live with me here"

"Here? But why? I am not in the habit of accepting charity"

"Pish and tosh my dear, this is such an empty house with only I and the servants now. I would much cherish having like-minded company to spend my days with, please Adelle. I am burgeoned with sorrow and it would be a great boon to me to come and stay for I doth need your comfort more than I care to admit. But fear not for your secret remains with me… _**Lady**_ DeWitt"

.

.

_**Back aboard The Slayer**_

"Good work Mr Gunn, very good work", smiled Lorne as he relieved the Bo'sun at the helm, "Though I do miss the whipstaff"

"The wh-whipstaff? Be that an instrument of punishment Sir, for it sounds most terrible", gasped Buffy as she took in the fresh air for the first time in many an hour for she heard the great rattle of chain tumble from the ship as they made anchor on the far side of Tabula Rasa, the only place to make port as it was an inhospitable crag of rocks with but one stretch of sand to make shore.

"Nein Fraulein, 'til these years past ve ne'er had a wheel with which t'steer. The whipstaff were a vertical wooden rod attached t'the tiller, 'tis how I learned to steer a ship. These new-fangled wheels still be at odds wi'' me", Lorne smiled with a light smile to mask his heavy heart.

"Oh, that is good", replied the blonde woman awkwardly as she sat on the bulwarks which were still much dampened from the storm, the light breeze feathered her hair behind her and she inhaled deeply to scurry away the webs in her eyes.

"Miss Summers, I have brought ye a little fodder. It must a stretching of the hours since last ye ate", said Andrew quietly as he handed the young woman a simple tin plate and offered a warm smile.

"Thankyou Sir, but what in Gideon's name is it?", asked Buffy looking at the platter before her.

"'Tis two slices of bread with meat inbetween. It be something Faith came up with when drunk one night, it has no name and even though Faith and Dawn love it so…..I cannot see it catching on", scoffed Andrew as he returned meekly to his galley.

Spike puffed uneasily on his clay pipe as he watched Andrew slither away below decks and as much as his disgust reared and bucked within his mind Spike could not still his soul. For his heart had been tethered these two days past and he wished not to feel such stirrings for the young man but as the former Kingsman watched the sorrow on Andrew's face he could not but feel the pang of guilt echo within him.

"Mr Harris?", asked Buffy as she bit into the breaded treat and shrugged as it did not taste of the foulness she expected though it still crack'd with its staleness.

"I told ye Miss, call me Xander"

"Yes, sorry. But tell me Sir, you have been at sea long?

"Aye"

"A-and you have you found great wealth in your endeavours outside the law? Do you find yourself one of fortune's unworthy minions?"

"'Tis hard to say as every port we nest in we spend coin like it were our last day on earth, but I still have every coin I were gifted for the loss o' my eye. One hundred pieces of eight", Xander smiled.

"R-really? Faith did compensate you for your woundings?"

"Aye, do ye know of Black Bart Roberts? Hung this past winter he was"

"Indeed, 'twas in the Times and a great cheer did ring out in Hyde Park that day", said Buffy with a sudden ease for though Willow had frowned upon her she had read with vigour the exploits and deathly justice of those bound to the seas.

"Well it were he who set forth the articles of piracy, but it were Faith who insisted he added about compensation for loss o' limb or eye. Oh, she were mighty enraged when she found out ol' Black Bart had changed it to pieces of eight _**or**_ a number o' slaves"

"Really?"

"Aye, so I gots my gold, no slave were ever offered though. Not that I would accept one, ye know well how we feel about that on The Slayer", said Xander for even though he lost his eye in a mere child's game Faith still paid him well and set forth protecting his repute as much as she protected his life.

"S-so if…in this duel with Satsu…if…if….I…were to lose eye or finger or…"

"The Cap'n has the word of the day an' hour of any duels, so 'til Faith is righted think no more of it, Miss", said Xander with the mimic of a genuine smile.

"I-I will try. But about this woman…the witch….you know her well?"

"Aye, I have known Tara for….ooh, Lord knows how long but she is…well…she sees things, she knows things that no God fearing soul should know"

"Oh, like the Wise Woman of Putney?"

"Who?"

"It matters not", said Buffy shaking her head.

"Xander, be ye finished yet?", asked Lorne as he came athwartships releasing the Cox'n from the awkward converse.

"Aye, should be sturdy enough", the one eyed buccaneer gloated as he showed the makeshift stretcher made of a hammock lashed 'tween two oars.

"Sehr gut, mein friend. Come, let us to work", said the German whose back ached dreadfully as he ushered Xander into the cabin where their comrades gathered round Faith's body which was so deep set in the throes of agony that the rope around her wrists had wrenched her skin 'til the rope soaked with her blood.

"So how shalt we rouse the Cap'n? I fear if we loose her binds then….", said Oz as he swayed a little for his head was now fuddled with rum.

"Let me", said Mr Gunn as he stepped forward 'til he gazed down on Faith's grimace of agony, "Forgive me, Cap'n"

The butt of his flintlock slammed down hard on Faith's head knocking sense and waking from her, she slumped into the pillow as her notched teeth rattled so.

"Sir, y-you barbarian!", yelled Buffy in alarm.

"'Tis the only way to get her ashore without her harming…..and as for barbarian….more than ye know", the negro said with a wry wink alluding to his past.

"Oz, be she alright?", asked Kennedy as the Doctor pressed his hand to the dark locks of the Captain.

"Aye, a little blood but a head that hard can take a knock or two. But let us hurry afore she stirs", replied Oz as he unbound the twisted lines from Faith's limbs and wrapped her in the soiled sheet before Kennedy and Xander lay her on the stretcher.

As they carried her out and lowered Faith into the longboats the crew scurried around, some seeking pistol and shot, some sought the armour of the Good Book to fend 'gainst the pagan monsters who inhabited the Isle Of The Fire Lily.

"Miss Buffy! Y-you are dressed as some slovenly creature o' the tides", gasped Willow as she clambered back topside, her heart still pounding with the gentle affectations from Kennedy but as she saw the wear of her Mistress she felt swathed in a panic.

"Will, be that _**my**_ dress?"

"I…I…I be so sorry Miss, I-I had no other dress to wear, p-please bear me no ill wish, Miss", blustered out Willow as she wrapped her arms around the tightly pulled corsetry of the lemon yellow dress with glittering golden stitching and the trickle of lace at the elbow length sleeves. The petticoats swished out wide as the maid danced nervously from foot to foot, her bustle rustling well with its silken bow swaying well in the whip of the breeze.

"Think nothing of it, it doth suit you well"

"I...oh.…thankyou Miss, but let us get you dressed too for if I am to…."

"Willow, fear not. 'Tis only for my own dress was ruined and these were all at hand", said Buffy as she smoothed down the front of her weskit and fluffed at the swell of her lacy cravat.

"B-but you have another fine gown in our cabin, come with me Miss Buffy and we will get you properly attired and….", fussed the maid as she reached for Buffy's hand.

"Nay Will, though I may not pass muster at Colonel Whedon's moonlight regatta dressed as such, I must admit….. they _**are**_ more comfortable", said the lady with a slight blush rosying her cheeks.

"I….Miss…..what….oh..", coughed out the maid but seeing the resolve set on the face of her Mistress the shy redhead retreated in her insistence.

"Miss, be ye coming?", asked Spike with a gesture of his hand towards the longboat which was tillered by Xander, whereas Anya and Mr Gunn held firm the stretcher across its peaked bow.

"Y-you are asking me to come ashore? T-to meet the witch?", said Buffy surprised that the Englishman would think her close enough company to Faith's heart that she should be present in her last hours.

"I insist Miss, but fear not Tara for we have cutlass an' shot enough to protect ye", he said averting his blue eyes.

"Very well, be you coming Willow?", Buffy said back as she inched towards the moorings.

"N-nay Miss Buffy, with your permission I wish to stay on board"

"Are you sure?", asked Buffy as she looked around to her friend who seemed strangely dazed and bore a flushing of the cheek.

"Yes Miss Buffy, I-I have no wish to mingle with a witch, such creatures are most loathsome", nodded the maid who tried to not let her eyes flicker to the de facto Captain who leant over the gratings letting her derriere flex in her tight pantaloons of browning leather.

"Be that the only reason?", smirked her Mistress as she placed a tricorn atop her head at a most jaunty angle.

"W-what do you mean, Miss?"

"I heard how you saved Kennedy's life, you are braver than I e'er imagined and I salute you for it my beloved friend. You….you really are sweetened on her are you not?", said Buffy who still felt the shivers of earlier when her serving girl had told her the truth of her wetting. She had lost so much but the loss of her only friend would surely sever her heart with angered blow, Buffy loved her gentle friend and wished not to cause her more anguish so thought it nobler as to not mention the forthcoming engagement with the mono-browed prostitute who was keeping well out of sight.

"Miss Buffy I…I am so sorry but I…"

"Nay sweet Will, no apologies for the heart is a wild and untamed beast and you need to heed its call. I just feel sorry for that irksome coal scamp back in London for he liked you, did he not?", scoffed Buffy as she took her maids clammy hands into her own.

"Who? Oh you mean Mr Stinson, he was most odious in his manner and I cannot see why any woman would e'er want to accept his pitching of woo", scoffed Willow recalling the vile advances of the man whose sooty handprints had tarnished many a bustle of the ladies of London.

"Miss, come now", Spike said as he took Buffy roughly by the arm and hurried her aboard the longboat which rose and fell in the swell of the tide, placing her aft where she gripped well to the wooden sides.

"Be ye coming Oz?", asked Mr Gunn seeing the topered Doctor lean on the bulshanks as he cast them off.

"Nay, I have not the stomach for heresy this day", he replied with a faint slur to his words.

"Xander ye better take care o' Faith or else ye will answer to me", growled Kennedy for, as much as it pained her, she would stay behind to man the helm for she was Captain once more and she had made a silent oath ne'er to fail her crew again.

"Aye, of course", he called back as he took oar into his callused hand.

The oars plunged into the water and they rowed for this kiss of sand 'neath its narrow hull as Kennedy watched on with worried eyes because for Willow she would risk her life…..but for Faith she would gladly give it.

.

.

_**Meanwhile, many leagues away in the seas off The Exumas**_

"Captain Boyd Langton at your service, Sir. Welcome aboard the Casa De Bonecas", said the tall man as he struck a fine salute, his well-trimmed fingers lining along the fiercely straight brim of his hat which bore the foppish feathered plumes of a dandy which sat greatly at odds with the stern man who wore it with pride. He was well reputed to be a gentleman of little levity and ruled his ship with an iron will, though it be undermanned and overgunned 'twas still as fine a frigate as any in the Portuguese Navy .

"Thankyou Captain", replied Captain Finn as they clasped hands in a firm handshake. "Fine ship you have here, though I fear it be too far after the heads"

"Aye Sir, I be agreeing with ye", said Mr Langton for he knew his crooked bow sat too low in the water.

"Shall we then?", said the Captain wishing to escape the ferocious glare of Apollo's golden gift.

"Aye, aye Sir. We have been waiting for you, I trust you bring glad tidings", asked Mr Langton as he motioned for the newly appointed Commander of the Caribbean Navy to head to his cabin.

"Indeed I do, I trust that he is already aboard then?", asked Mr Finn as he nodded his peaked brow towards the HMS Jericho which sat off the starboard bow in all its battered glory.

"Yes Sir, Captain Jack Harper came aboard near an hour ago and has been inspecting my men. I must say Sir that I felt most aggrieved that the British Navy trust so little in their allies that such inspections be necessary", said Mr Langton as he walked with ramrod straight back across his spotless decks. Though Mr Langton was born to a fine Portuguese family his mother was of London stock and so bestowed upon him a name which would betray his heritage but allow him access to the courts of London and the New World.

"Sir, I know well of Mr Harper's repute and he is a man of honour so think nothing of his little indiscretions", smiled Mr Finn as he entered the Captain's cabin.

The three ships lay in quiet anchor with canvas lowered and cannon ready for they were indeed a vulnerable force. Since Governor Summers perished at the hands of Spanish rogues the Lord High Admiralty feared an attack on the Florida mainland amidst rumours of King Philippe's Navy massing a great fleet in secrecy. The British Navy ordered more support off the Keys and so distributed their ships along the coastline of the New World leaving but ten ships in the harbour of New Swaffham which would usually house at least thirty frigates and sloops.

But the fort of New Swaffham could ne'er be breeched even by the largest of Spanish armada's and so felt no fears when Captain Finn sent the remainder of their ships to track down his bride-to-be, with four ships sailing west and three sent south.

"Sir", said Mr Harper as he stood firm to attention and snapped off a somewhat sloppy salute.

"Mr Harper, good to see you again. I see you have yet to shave good Sir"

"My apologies Sir, 'tis been a devil of a time getting here", replied Captain Jack Harper as he scraped a hand across his squared chin.

"It excuses not your state Mr Harper, but 'tis not the time for trivialities, let us on with business", said Mr Finn as crossed the oaken table and let his eyes scour the map unfurled 'pon it.

"Aye Sir, let us be with speed for I wish to attend to my wife", smirked Mr Langton as he set his hat down and poured forth three glasses of fine Madeira wine, his well won medals tinkling against the breast of his mauve tailcoat whose brass buttons shone with gleaming dignity.

"Is she still being somewhat reluctant to abide with you in your chamber?"

"Aye Mr Harper, 'tis been six months since we wed and still she bears such hostility. 'Pon those first nights she would claw and kick as if she were possessed by evil spirits but once I forced myself on her she would cease her battling, but I do keep her locked up and without clothes for I fear for my John Thomas"

"Good gad man, I fear you are being too tender with her for alas she is not your horse, merely your wife", snorted Captain Harper as he sipped the fine drink from the long stemmed glass.

"I have oft taken birch to her but even after her welts and bruises have bloomed and I lie with her she refuses to succumb to my lustings. Merely laying there as if a sack of soiled oats, when I plunder her nook most creatively she does naught but weep though on occasion she does whisper the word 'Nwangi', though I know not what it means. You know these girls from Tunis, 'tis probably a curse"

"If she is no harpy of the boudoir then why did you choose her as wife, Sir?"

"She was a gift, I sank the flagship of Don Luis Bezoar when I snared him entering the Guadalquivir estuary en route to Seville and I was honoured to attend his Majesty in Lisbon who was most grateful, there he gifted to me one of his serving girls which he was traded from the Sultan of Tunis as a gesture of good faith. 'Twas most strange that a serving girl to his Majesty would remain in chains but for reasons I am not given to understand His Majesty gave her to me as a wife on the condition that she not find the solace of death until late in life and had borne me many offspring."

"Well I suggest a firmer course with the good lady"

"I have thought of using the crop to tame such a mare but she surely is a stubborn beast, but I find your advice to be most intriguing. Very well, this very night I shall take my belt to my Jasmine and show her just who is her Lord and Master now", said Mr Langton as he clinked glasses with Mr Harper.

"Gentlemen?", said Mr Finn tiring of the facile nature of their converse.

"Sir, I apologise. I speak of my bride when your own is in the hands of that cur of the tides", said Captain Langton with a touch of shame.

"Aye, I have heard tell that time in the close company of Captain Lehane can make a damsel hungered of the mind and so lay with her", scoffed Mr Harper for he truly be a man of a much narrowed mind and a heart burgeoned with bigots sheen, for he saw women who sought solace within the lap of another Lady to be most low, he esteemed them no higher than Turks or Jews.

"I know of her by repute alone, though one must recognize her as the finest Mistress o' the sail that England in her age beheld", said Mr Langton with a quiver of admiration.

"Gentlemen please!", snapped Captain Finn capturing their attentions once more.

"I apologise Sir… er…you said you had word of your bride", said Mr Harper as he drained his glass and set about pouring another.

"Aye, I fear greatly for my Elizabeth but I know where she hath been taken…..here", said Captain Finn as he pointed to a well inked map where his finger, bearing the seal of his new office, pressed to an empty space nestled within a cluster of islands.

"But Sir, there be nothing there"

"But there is….an isle called Tabula Rasa. There we shall find my bride _**and**_ The Slayer, there is but one cove - one place upon which to land. We will wait for them off the reefs to the north and once they make sail we can trap that damnable crew and wipe them out"

"And of Captain Lehane?", asked Mr Harper for he had clashed broadside with her in the past and his buttocks bore the scars thereof, he wished most heartily to see the rogue swing and restore order and trade to the colonies and to quell this reactionary nonsense about freeing slaves.

"He that takes her first may have his way with her for a night and a day. After that she will face justice….and then death"

"I will be most cheered to see her swing at the gallows", smiled Mr Langton.

"Aye…gallows", smirked Mr Finn knowing that Faith would ne'er reach the courts of the Bahamas for she would perish in agony long before violent justice was meted down to her.

"Sir?", asked Mr Harper wondering of the Commander's furtive answer.

"Nevermind. But fear not men, I shall return to my ship and you two follow in its wake….we must hurry for this isle is far and I know not the lay of the tides in these islands."

"Aye, aye Sir", both men saluted back as Captain Finn drained his glass and placed it delicately back on the table.

"Sir", began Mr Langton, "I must ask, the movements of The Slayer are shrouded in such secrecy, how do you know of their whereabouts?"

"Let us just say….a little bird told me", said Captain Finn with a wide smile as he knew that soon he would have his prize.

And with luck, a new bride and the most dreaded pirate of the Caribbean in chains too.

.

.

_**On the shores of Tabula Rasa**_

The sky, though still washed with greying hues, now sat still, sated at the carnage it unleashed 'pon the mortals 'neath its glower. A penitent canvas to receive both the love-struck prayers of the noblesse and the bitter whispers of those bound to the sordid bordellos within earshot of the Vatican.

"Mr Gunn, do you fear what such heathen ways may unfold?", asked Buffy as they set foot onto the soft crunch of sand and hauled the stretcher aloft as they hurried from the quiet of the beach and into the grasping swathes of undergrowth.

"Nay Miss, for there is no other God than Allah and Mohammed is his messenger. Though the encroach of Christendom to my homeland in the time of my father's sent many fleeing into heathen ways, my devotion hath never wilted. If this Tara be of evil tidings then I will think little to dispatch her to hell, but if she truly is Faith's only chance….then may God have mercy on us"

"You speak of Allah as if he is more than devils visage on holy words", said Buffy wondering how such heretics could live with a whole heart.

"Allah is the God of Ibrahim, the same God as you worship", snorted Mr Gunn as the one thing that religious folk despise more than a heathen are those who worship the same God…but in a different way.

Buffy simply dropped her peeling eyes and walked on with bitten footpads, but as they trudged into the dank and choking undergrowth of the isle the crew felt a sudden chill as they were enveloped by the cacophony of the wild. Scores of flightless birds shrilled from darkened nooks and primates, deep in gestation, cackled and howled from hidden boughs, but as the crew slashed through the suffocating undergrowth with mattock and cutlass a sudden silence befell the scene.

They stopped in their tracks as a hush consumed the sickly air all around them, Anya's eyes flicked towards the lofty eaves and gulped heavy for she had merely head the tales of this witch and ne'er set foot on this isle before, the deafening quiet compounded her fears as she clasped her pistol's butt still nestling in her bandolier.

"Raahhhh!", came the blood curdling growl of impending doom, it shrieked out over pointed teeth accompanied by fiery red eyes and skin of loosened and scabrous qualities. Branches crack'd like a volley of shot as a monster surely borne of Medusa's cruelty tore through the trees towards them with a primal menace.

Spike and Anya leapt back and drew pistols on instinct letting the stretcher crash to the ground sending up plumes of soft soil around the ailing Captain who stirred not as the crew crowded round the beloved freebooter ready to defend her.

"A demon! A demon!", squealed Buffy as she leapt behind Xander in terror as this hideous beast of a man bore his long fingernails smeared with blood and flecks of coal.

"It's not a demon… it's Clem", said Xander with a roll of his eye.

"What does it want?", Buffy squeaked out sheepishly as she took in the creature before her who bore such monstrous features that his very existence would be an affront to the Lord.

"Sorry Clem, she's not used to th' likes o' ye", smiled Xander as he reached forward with his hand to shake.

"Oh, is that you Xander? How are ye m'boy?", Clem chuckled as he dropped his façade of rage and forced his torn lip into a resemblance of a grin.

"I be most well thank ye, but we have little time for pleasantries. I-it's Faith…"

"What be wrong with her?", the hulking man of sagging skin and deformed features said as his eyes washed with sorrows veil 'pon seeing the Captain so well sickled, "Oh dear Lord in heaven"

"Stay back fiend", snapped Anya, whose mind would always groan for the love of pfennig and sheckel, as within the blink of a cheetah's eye she pulled her dagger forth in front of Clem who shot forward in panic as he saw the fallen pirate on the stretcher.

"Out my way girl", he snarled making her flinch as her blade sliced his forearm but he noticed it not.

"Oh Faith, my swee…w-what happened to her?", asked Clem with a quivering voice and a pounding heart.

"I will explain as we go…we must get to Tara now. Is she still here?", replied Xander coaxing the lumbering man away.

"Where else _**would**_ she be?", asked Clem as he wrapped his tattered rags around his body a little closer.

"I see your point….but please, only ye can find her home in this godforsaken place", implored Xander as he waved his hand around to the dense jungle surrounding them.

"Then take her up m'laddies, an' let us go", replied Clem as he turned on his heels and limped away into the thick trees and vines which harangued their every beleaguered step which soon gave way to the slew of a dark and menacing swamp.

The thick mud lunged at their boots seemingly trying to drag the buccaneers down into the mire and in the barren branches above them sat skulls and sun bleached bones formed into parodies of human contortion as heavy set spiders cast great webs of silvery strands across them. They clunked together in the stodgy air singing out a melody of dark portent, the bones hollowed out and catching the wind so they cried as if infested with the haunted souls of a hundred vanquished mariners.

Buffy felt most fretful at being lured deeper onto the Isle but she knew not whether to fear or pity this man who bore afflictions which, even in the Book of Revelations, no mortal should have to suffer. As Xander and Clem lead the way the stretcher was hauled up and for reasons unknown, in this place of such harrowing repute, Buffy took Faith's hand into her own for comfort. But she was most unsure as to whether she was giving or receiving solace.

"Mr Gunn", said Buffy in an aching whisper as she swatted at the fury of mosquitos jabbing at her skin, "This man….who is he?"

"Well the tale goes that Clem were once Cox'n on The Ascension, he were brought here by Cap'n Wilkins when he started showing the first signs of leprosy"

"A l-leper? But why is he here?", she asked holding her crucifix tight for she feared leprosy greatly for she had only once witnessed its cruel wake in the backstreets of London.

"The witch….Tara. She has powers and potions which keep him alive and makes him suffer little though she cannot cure him, or so I have been told. He protects her and his very presence keeps those struck with idle curiosity away, for the rumours of a witch who doth cavort with demons who is protected by a murderous leper….well, only those who are cast as loon or depraved would e'er set foot on this Isle", said Mr Gunn as his arms began to ache as they crossed the deadly water which crept up to near knee high, with Anya slashing her sword at the dark stretch of swamp, as if clouded by devils fume, where snakes did slide across its bubbling surface.

Buffy looked on at the fast moving creature whose robes were of such disrepair that no pauper ready for the grave would e'er be shrouded in such garments as an attending man of the cloth would find it an abomination to send a soul to the Lord in such clothing. But as the shuffling man slopped his way through the swamp occasionally turning back to check on suffering Captain, Buffy could see that hidden in this mist of deformity sat a vaguely human face which twisted with a dark melancholy, though his eyes burned like demons glare Buffy could see them doused by the furrowing of tears.

Even in the thick heat a low mist crept across the swamp where growls and hiss danced over its mottled skin like it was a primordial den of evil which gifted only death. The crew forced their legs through the soup of spawn and twigs where the desiccated bodies of dead hummingbirds floated in silence, a place where superstition was law and blood was sovereign, forsaken by heaven and sought by heathen.

"Hurry, we be almost there", said Xander as they pushed forth and there, buried 'gainst the side of a fallen tree, sat a hut which billowed with twists of purpling smoke.

'Twas little more than a hovel forged of stick and mud with the skins of manys the beast stretched out across its opening. As Buffy gulped hard she felt heartened that her fears were too shown in the faces of her compadres as even Mr Gunn felt a shiver in his limbs at seeing the dilapidated home which bred within him a new meaning for squalor.

"Tara….'tis I….an' I bring guests", shouted Clem as he used what was left of his hand to move open the drying skins and stepped forward into the den.

"I told ye….this witch will kill us all. We should flee before we all end up but stewed bones, or mayhaps with a hex cast on us", said Anya with an unholy knotting of her innards made her near dampen her britches.

"Come in…all of ye", said Clem and, after crossing themselves well, the crew and their guest stepped forward.

As they passed through the entrance Buffy's eyes threatened to spill from her head as she saw the leathery skin on display around the doorframe, the shrunken heads well weathered with their eyes and mouths stitched together with strips of dried intestine.

The crew set foot into the shack and, there in the gloom, caught twixt shadows and serpents alike, sat a haunched figure in robes which even the lowliest of vagabonds would cast aside. She moved slowly and her face covered with a veil as she breathed in the smoke of the henbane and rottichom which clouded her mind.

"Tara?", called out Xander slightly fearful of the yellow snake she stroked in her hands. Her long chipped nails slowly scratching of the scales of the venomous creature.

"I knew it be ye", whispered Tara in a scratchy drawl as she let the snake slither free and curl 'neath her resting place.

"Aye…..a-and….er, be thee well?"

"Aye", she said back over her shoulder as she picked up scorched twig and swirled her cauldron which sent out smells which made eyes burn and manhoods wilt.

"A-and…er… how is Miss Kitty?", he asked warily.

"Miss Kitty? Y-you have a kitty cat?", Buffy suddenly piped up for she reasoned that no-one who kept as sweet a pet as a cat could be saturated in evil, "Here puss-puss….here…er, Miss, where is your kitty?"

"Ye be standing in her", chuckled Tara as she could hear Buffy start to gag for as the Lady looked down she could see her boots were caked in intestine, fur and blood where the cat was strung out.

"I…I…oh my god", coughed Buffy as she covered her mouth trying to coax her bile to stay internal.

"W-why?", asked Mr Gunn as he caught Buffy who scampered back in panic.

"I knew ye be coming…she had the answers I doth need….", said Tara as she stood up and crossed over to the splayed corpse of her pet, falling to her knees she cast aside her veil and plunged her fingers into the mass of gore. She snapped the ribs apart with a sickening crack and pulled forth the liver letting it dribble 'tween her bony fingers, her eyes scanned its outer edges and Tara's hands trembled as she whispered into the organ which slid o'er her lips sending blood and muscle tumbling down her chin.

"S-stay back…I warn thee", stammered Anya as she held out her pistol in hands which shook as if she were being coerced by the bride of Be'elzebub himself.

"Treachery awaits thee….all of ye…..vengeance will come on swift tides….love will seek ye first….but death will follow….", Tara sneered in the dim shafts of light which broke through the crack'd mud walls to show her hunched back and long straggles of once golden hair.

"I…oh…right", said Xander as he bit his lips hard for he too felt the surge of his last meal creeping up his throat.

"Do I make thee uncomfortable Xander?", tittered Tara as she crossed back across the mud strewn hovel threw the liver into the cauldron.

"I…well….er…nay"

"Liar. So what brings ye to my door once more. It be not that disease ye got from that native girl…"

"Nay, it be Faith"

"Lord, it's not the clap again is it?", scoffed Tara in return.

"Nay, much worse. She were shot with an arrow…"

"So? She's been shot with much worse….remember Sierra?", quizzed the witch as she foraged within the broken wooden chest in one corner salvaged from a Flemish skillet which met its end on the jagged reef off Tabula Rasa. Its mere seven survivors soon cursing their fortune as within a week all were skinned and their heads in the process of being shrunken.

"Aye, but this be not the time for that", Xander shuddered with terror struck pallor recalling how Faith received the large scar on her stomach, "The arrow was poisoned….with Mary's Blood"

"By Hades whim, why did ye not say", snapped Tara in fear as she span round, "Let me see her…now!"

As the crew parted to show the Captain on the makeshift stretcher Tara shuffled forward and felt the cold skin of Faith, hauled her lids open and hissed at the eyes which were near swirls of black. The witch threw her cowl back and a chorus of gasps rang out as the crew could now see the hideous scars running across Tara's face, deep ravines of crimson pain sliced along her cheeks and forehead, one eye stitched shut from where it had been torn from her head. Buffy felt a tear slither free as she took in the scars despoiling such a pretty face, though the blade which had torn at Tara's flesh in a frenzy of anger had long since fallen silent, she bore a silent scream which would sound out for all time.

"How long has it been since she was poisoned?", asked the witch as she looked down at the whey faced buccaneer who was starting to stir once more. Faith's gaunt ribs near piercing her skin as she battled fiercely for each breath.

"N-near two days or so", said Mr Gunn as his fears of this witch and her heathen cruelties were paled by his need for Faith's salvation.

"And still she lives? Sheckle me, even with a will like hers I have seldom seen someone greet two sunrises acting as host to Mary's Blood"

"S-so ye can save her?", asked Buffy with tones of mercy.

"Aye, but we must act fast. On the shelf there, fetch me those two jars, Clem get me the claws of a sea serpent and seven petals of the fire lily, the red ones", said Tara as she took a knife and sliced at her forearm letting a trail of blood pour into a bowl before throwing in leaves and roots of unknown names.

"Christ Jesu, deliver us!", coughed Anya in awe and alarm.

"Now Spike, what have ye in way of payment?", the haggard witch asked as a scarlet trickle ran down her arm.

"We…..have….do ye really ask for it?", said the Englishman with regret rattling within his words.

"Faith is near death, I will do all I can to save her and save her I will…but something like this requires the highest you can offer", said Tara as she licked her lips.

"Fine, ye can have my first born", sighed Anya from the doorway as she feared press further into the home of a witch.

"What? Nay, I have no need of such things. Spike, ye know what I ask for"

"Ye know well none us can pay it…..save one", he replied as he pulled Buffy forward and thrust her into the narrow sight of the witch.

"What be you doing, Sir?", asked Buffy as she felt the eye of Tara run all over her.

"Paying her", said Spike with a strange tone.

"B-but I have no monies", said Buffy with brows disfigured by confused angles.

"What in Aphrodite's name would I spend coin on?", said Tara as she stared forward, "Nay, the payment I ask for is….. the flower of a maiden"

Buffy's eyes shot open as a sickening rush thunder'd through her as she looked at the crew of The Slayer and then down to Faith whose gasps for breath were now echoed with a deathly rattle.

"Y-y-you want my…my….", Buffy gasped as her hands crossed over her blessed fundament, a delicate and fragrant bloom which she had sworn to both God and her mother would not be pluck'd 'til her wedding night

"It be your choice Miss, your virtue…..or Faith's life!"


	11. Chapter 11

_**(Thanks to igon, BuffynFaithfan, eternally tormented, rioshix,un_mind, emory, and everyone who's name I have forgotten (sorry) ,but cheers for all your reviews and support, I love you all. I should give you fair warning that the next chapter will be quite short, but the one after will feature a bloody big sea battle and the showdown between The Slayer and the Royal Navy where death and revelations will be abound!)**_

_**In a ramshackle hovel on the isle of Tabula Rasa **_

"Is this why ye asked Miss Buffy to go ashore?", Anya snapped at Spike like he were naught but a rum-potted master of hounds. The Englishmen averted his dulcet blue eyes which bore a rabid fusion of childish meek and flaming menace, "And ye expect her t' barter her chastity for the life of a wanted pirate?"

"So ye will let Faith die?", replied Spike gesturing to the fallen Captain who breathed in ragged desperate gasps on the earthen floor scattered with boned debris and the scree of sacrifice.

"Nay, but to trade her flowery knave like this….this is cruelty beyond measure. I will not stand here and let you ask this of her, for I think she will not give of herself willingly", blasted Mr Gunn as he felt the well notched hilt of his pistol dig into his clenching hand.

"Then she must be made to!", snapped the Englishman with a rising scour as Anya fired back her ghastly gaze, her tired eyes casting a deathly glower o'er her shipmate.

"I know ye be fraught Spike, but ne'er I thought you capable of a notion like this. Such words shame thee, Sir", spat Anya with grinding teeth as she, for some reason at odds with her constant avarice, seemed more insistent that the young lady remain whole.

"An' why in Job's name should ye care, were it not ye who sold the untapped backside o' Luc when we were reefed off Ma'amurua?", snorted Spike for there was little doubt over the nature of his harangue.

"It were not like he fought it"

"But 'e ne'er came back!"

"So? I know not what ye be tryin' here Spikey but we…", replied Anya.

"Shut yer bloody trap ye mumpin villain, for I be not wantin' to fetch the six shillin' piner for Faith. Oi Xander, is that what ye want?", sneered Spike in retaliation for the mere thought of passing coin for a polished elm casket made his aching heart shudder.

"Of course not", said Xander in retreat for he more than most would gladly give all he had for his beloved Captain. His jewels, his blood, even his dying breath, but to trade on the chastity of an innocent like Miss Summers made his innards knot in fury.

"Then what choice do we 'ave? Ye know the articles o'the sea an' Miss Buffy owes a life debt that _**must**_ be paid...no matter the cost", said Spike as a reticent Buffy melted into the clawing shadows as her fate was bandied about in angered tones with little attention paid to her cowered presence. Her shock and fear strangled her words in her throat before they could air as her tears formed in burning pools of despair.

"Damn the bloody articles!", yelled Anya, her ever present purse o' coins jangling with pride, as she shoved Spike hard in the chest.

"But she is much indebted t'the skipper, Faith took the arrow for 'er an' look how she suffers!", pushed back the Englishman as a great argument rang out through the crew most tarnished with the foul pallor of anguish.

"Given the choice I'm sure Miss Buffy would prefer the burnin' o' venom rather than barter her dignity like this", added Xander as his eye flittered down to see Tara pressing a crack'd gourd of frothing brew to the pale lips of Faith.

"And what happens when she finds out? The skipper would ne'er allow a Lady like Miss Buffy t'shame herself on account o' Faith. Ye remember what happened with Mark?", growled Anya, her scabrous fingers shaking with distress.

"Who? Oh….aye…_**him**_", said Spike with harrowed recollection.

Mark were a Yorkshireman born and bred 'neath the splutter of the coal mines who billowed the thick smog o'er the town, but he sought not the calling of his fathers and reached for loftier goals, but he was still forced to take to the waves as his life as a bear baiter petered out following the savage attack on the Arch Deacon of Wigan. But all Spike would e'er remember of him was the thrashing form of young Mr Evans which faded into crimson anonymity many moons ago, a fitting end for his cruelty shown to Meredith.

For Meredith was a fallen woman who had fled her brethren of Carolina and found refuge in the Hellmouth with Madam Dru some years earlier, she were a comely wench who favoured the slivering wisps of opium o'er any tipple o'grog but more important than that, she were Faith's scarlet woman of choice. When Captain Wilkins left the fledgling buccaneer with Madam Dru once more one Yuletide, it was then that Faith reached her fourteenth year 'pon this earth and yielded her flower to Meredith, and Faith felt herself well pluck'd. A plucking which continued each time The Ascension made port in the den of heathen iniquity.

Years later, when Faith was raised to the rank of Captain of The Slayer, she sailed with haste to the Hellmouth and begged Meredith to take to the waves with her as ship's concubine, but only as the personal wench o' the nines to the Captain for Faith wished no other to lay their lust on a rare gem such as she. Though Faith felt not love for Meredith, the be-jugged wench, with just the probe of her fingers and the swirl of her tongue, could harness desires which would make seraphim weep in jealousy.

But one chilly eve Mark, with a head full of rum and a groin sizzling with malicious greed, stole away to the hold and offered Meredith no coin to lie with him, merely the fierce back of his hand and the threat of his blade as he plundered her sacred cove, leaving her a bloody and defiled wretch whose tears wrought heavy.

'Twas the rising of dawn the next morning when Mr Evans met his end, his skin sliced o'er two hundred times by Faith's silver dagger during the night, shallow cuts so he stayed with sense as he bled in trickles and begged for mercy at the feet of the Captain whose rage had ne'er peaked higher. As he tottered along the oaken plank hanging o'er the portside of the ship he whimpered as he felt his blood pour slowly along the grain of the timber before Faith, tiring of his reluctance to take that last fateful step, drew her pistol and aimed true. He screamed in a pitiful wake as the shot tore through his knee in a flurry of shattered bone and sinew sending him flailing into the waters below.

His hands were bound with rough hempen line to an empty cask which bobbed on the frothy white crest of the waves keeping him afloat as he awaited his doom with a shiver. The dour faced crew of The Slayer watched on as the scissor toothed silver monsters tore him to pieces in a frenzy of blood and shrieks as Meredith scowled down, her need for vengeance sated. Faith held her tight for the next two days 'til they reached the safety of the coast of Peru where the despoiled woman sought a new life, her coffers filled with many sparkling jewels and tooth marked doubloons from the purse of the Captain whose guilt would burn for an eternity.

But Faith would ne'er would she set eyes on Meredith again.

"Mr Gunn, with Ken still on the ship an' Faith…out o'the gunners, well….'tis yer word of command", said Anya with pleading eyes as she turned to the hulking negro who loosened his stained neckerchief and pressed it to his sweat laden forehead.

"Why me?", he asked back with wide eyes .

"Ye be the highest rankin' here, ye give the word and we will do yer will", said the one eyed Cox'n with pursed lips as he showed his support to his betrothed, hoping that such an act would once more let him lie with her passion and not in stony silence at night.

"I…well I…"

"Do ye wish for Faith to die?", snorted Spike slicing through to the heart of the matter.

"Nay, ye know that Spike. But for us to decide on such a….nay, I cannot…_**will**_ not allow this happen. Not just for Faith"

"Then why?"

"For it be wrong", he said back solemnly parroting the words of his Captain used more than once when the virtue of a Lady was insisted on, his eyes clasping Buffy's slight frame as she skulked in the thin darkness of the hovel.

"So ye will just let her die? There should be a way to save both and..", pushed Anya as her narrow slits of eyes bore into Mr Gunn's softening orbs.

"Outside, all of ye!", shouted Tara with a scurling rasp not tearing her remaining eye from Faith's lips which flinched as the pungent broth slithered down her raw throat making her idle blood simmer and swirl.

"B-but Tara, we have…", said Xander with a sudden tremor hearing the venom sluicing her words.

"I said leave…or do ye wish to feel my wrath?", came the skin crawling lure of the witch who pressed foul scented leaves to the gaping sinewy wound of Faith who did flinch most sharply 'neath the sting.

"C-come, let us go", spat out Anya in gulping fear as she herded the motley crew of freebooters through the dried and mottled hides hanging across the doorway and outside into the dull sunlight which fought to crack through the branches of the thick swathe of loping trees which arced around the dilapidated hovel.

"Not ye Miss….ye stay", said Tara as she grabbed at Buffy's arm, her torn fingernails scratching at the smooth cotton of the lace hemmed shirt.

"Unhand me fiend", snapped Buffy in callous riposte as she feared to be alone with the heathen soul who bore deep chevrons of scars that no soul, whether blessed by the Lord or not, should have suffered.

"Do not fear me child", said Tara in a sudden softening of manner as she loosened her grip on her guest who would wish brimstone 'pon the witch's slumber in but a moment.

"Child? Miss, you bear few years on me….b-but….", started Buffy before supping a will bolstering breath which filled her weskit well, ."But you will not partake of my body….no matter what you demand"

"Hush, for now is not the time for such payments. I merely wish to talk to thee, I seldom have the chance to speak to another woman. Here, help me hold Faith's head", replied the haggard witch who, within the passing of few years, could well labelled a crone. But her voice was now awash with velvet smooth tones, its gentle syllables rose from her torn lips and swirled around the shack carrying with such an enchanting comfort that Buffy found herself drawn to the pirouetting sounds.

"I-I will stay …f-for a little while….to talk, and that is all", stammered out Buffy as her outrage and terror fell into a lull for Tara's words stirred her pity readily.

"Aye, to talk…that is all. Now hold her head thusly"

Buffy's fingers slipped round Faith's nape and cradled it with near reverence as Tara poured another tot of potion into a small shallow dish forged from oyster shell, its gloopy content boiling with head fuzzing fumes.

"She must drink of this 'til the fever is burst and life once more flourishes in her" said the witch as she flicked her matted tendrils of hair back and stared with a swerving menace into the eyes of Buffy which still held such an innocence that it confused Tara, "If I stop brewing it….Faith will die. Is that what ye wish for? To have her life ebb away so you may snare your freedom?"

"N-no…p-please…do not let her die", said Buffy as she felt as if the witch was plundering her very soul with her piercing gaze.

"So ye wish her to live?"

"Y-yes"

"Why?", replied Tara with an inquisitive slant to her head.

"Why? B-because I owe her much….if it were not for…she….please Miss, j-just make her healed once more"

"Very well, I will heal her full. So will ye pay me, or nay?", hummed Tara in near melody to the young woman who was most ripe and receptive.

"You said w-we were just to talk, but n-nay…I cannot give that of which you ask…..not like this"

"Ye owe her yer life, do ye not wish to make amends for the suffering ye have caused?"

"H-how do you know of that? Ye really be of unholy gifts to know of Mr Pike a-and…", gasped Buffy as her heart pounded as if a thousand leaden hooved stallions stampeded across the flinted plains of her soul, for her past haunted her so and had ne'er confided in any though the brazier of her guilt would always burn and line her heart with sullen ash.

"I know more than ye could e'er know", drawled the witch as she watched Buffy's eyes run along the deep, anger fused scars on her face, "You stare at my wounds….do ye fear me for them?"

"N-nay Miss...I fear you for many things, but not for your scars…..I pity you must humbly for them a-as what manner of foul monster could ravage a subtle beauty like once you held?"

Tara, for the first time in the turning of many an hourglass, felt her cheeks warm with a blush for seldom had she felt the kiss of kind hearted words.

"Miss, ye speak with warmth…let me strike a deal with ye….I will tell ye my truth…if you answer me but one question with honesty"

"Aye…I mean, yes…'tis a deal", Buffy corrected herself as even though this necromancer wefted and waned with her manner, she had an aura which felled the Lady's haughty barricades to let flow the milk of simple charity within.

"Swear it", said Tara grasping Buffy's hand tightly.

"On my father's grave, I will not speak untruths to you. Will ye pledge to return me the same grace and not speak with sorcerer's tongue?", replied Buffy in solemn pledge.

"Aye, I will. I admire thy candour, and as such I shall tell you of my plight in honesty", said Tara as she once more held the brew to Faith's lips which took on a more fanciful hue with each sip of the enchantress' broth.

"Thankyou"

"Ye see, I were not born on the damnable isle but on shores many leagues away in the town of Reiijioc, on the coast of Albania. It were a green and pleasant land where wolves cavorted and gypsies sang freely…'til a great darkness befell our demi-Eden. Our village were nestled in the shadows of a great castle where the benevolent Lord Tsuchiya ruled with a just hand, he did take a bride of noble blood but afore he could taste of her foundry on his wedding night, he fell gravely ill and died in agony without knowing the blessin' of another dawn. Rumours span about the new Lady Tsuchiya poisoning him but she were now sovereign of all she surveyed and above law and church alike, but she spake with demon's breath as she carved her swash through our kinfolk with merciless depravity", said the witch with sorrow's plight.

"How so?", asked Buffy.

"Oh, the Lady Tsuchiya were a beast of such cruelty that all who dwelled on her lands cowered in her wake, luckily my family were outcasts and exiled to the forest of Ravenglass so were ne'er called upon to be serving wenches in her castle, oh the screams of torment which rang from within those walls still haunt me so. 'Tis said she made fair game of the peasantry for she would answer to none 'til the rapture, if she caught a serving girl speaking of her evils Lady Tsuchiya would sew up her mouth, or if any ornaments became chipped or broken she would cut off the girls fingers with rusty shears afore skewering their hinds with white hot pokers"

"I…oh….good gad! B-but you escaped such atrocities? W-why were you outcasts?"

"My family observed the ways of old and shunned the blessings o' Christ, they called us witches though all we did was harvest nature's bounty and remedy the ills o' the locals who dared to seek help and comfort. But one day the Lady did call upon my mother for aid…but once in the walls o' the castle the Lady demanded my mother to serve her in her chamber….with her tongue"

"…", Buffy's mouth opened with no sound escaping as her mind twisted into plagued tangents.

"But my mother refused an' Lady Tsuchiya flew into a rage and proclaimed our family to be in league with the Devil and that we sacrificed children 'pon Solstice eve. The townsfolk feared her most greatly and so took up arms 'gainst us in horrific reprisal, wreaking hideous vengeance 'pon my whole family. M-my father and brothers were burned alive, they used ash wood for it made little smoke so they would remain in control o' their tormented senses as the flames seared their bubbling skin…b-but my mother….she bore one of the most appalling deaths known to man, one usually reserved for wick'd gypsies and shipwrecked Moslims….s-she were sewn up alive in the body of a dead horse", said Tara as her memories did lend her eye a furious torment.

"I b-be so sorry for ye Miss", wheezed out Buffy with alarm cascading into her pity as she squeezed Faith's hand tighter drawing comfort from the clammy skin as Tara clamoured around 'tween gourds and silvered platter searching for Fire Lilies of an ivory hue.

"I watched as all my kin were tortured unto death, but the elders o' the town bound me t'the whipping trice for Lady Tsuchiya herself, to use my body in any manner of depravity she saw fit…but I spat my wrath in her face and did place a terrible curse on my tongue. She herself tore my eye from my head with her sharpened nails and crushed it underfoot, she bled out evil laugh as the townsfolk took searing coals and glinting blades to my skin…I dare not show you the true horrors which lay 'neath my gown for if I did you would doubt the word of your God. But I would not succumb to the gift of death so they cast me from the cliffs but though I were tossed by the rip o' tides and the clatter o' rocks I refused to breathe my last, I were but fourteen years of age at the time. I shall not tire you with how and why I came to be here, but here I am and here I will spend all my days", said Tara as the sun parched lily crumbled in her hands and added to the thick paste she smeared into Faith's wounds making the ailing pirate flinch even in slumber.

"B-but what of this monstrous woman?", asked Buffy watching the pain contort the face of the deeply agonized witch whom she no longer held fear in for the bellows of compassion did now flame her heart.

"I heard it said that she once entertained the Baroness of Salchoik one winters eve, but when, during dinner, her demands for carnal pleasures were refused…..Lady Tsuchiya simply slit her throat and let her slowly bleed to death 'tween courses, casually sipping wine as the life ebbed from her guest. But the Baroness was most favoured in the court of King Machida and he sent his finest men to seek the truth, but they were ill prepared for what they found. Rotting corpses littered her grounds, limbless serfs begging for death and faint desperate scratches came from the walls of her castle from where she had her serving girls bricked up until they died, all for her wick'd amusement. The King's men were so abhorred they arrested her on sight and took her into irons for trial at the palace, but when the carriage arrived…..it were empty, as if Lady Tsuchiya were ghosted away. But these last years past rumours have spun on these distant shores about her crossing the great sea and finding refuge in the these parts and was unleashing her cruelty once more. 'Tis why I can ne'er leave this Isle for if she finds I escaped her judgment…."

"A-and she is in these waters?"

"'Tis said she does not venture onto the tides but is hidden away on the hidden island of Pylea, a crag o' rocks enshrouded in fog spewed straight from hell, which no man would e'er set foot on….even Faith knows not where it is. 'Tis why I must hide here but each night when the moon doth bless us with its gaze I pray unto it for just punishment to find the fiend who took all that I held dear. When Lady Tsuchiya were borne unto this world I know not why her mother refused to dash the infants head 'gainst sharpened rocks, instead she baptised her with the name which causes brave men and pious clergy to weep in fear….. the name of Ilyria", Tara said sadly as she moved in her gown which was but a deplorable shroud to a heretic queen.

"Y-you doth fear her greatly?"

"Would _**ye**_ not if she had cast down such terrors unto your kin? But I fear not just for me, but if she knew of my living then all who hath crossed my path will feel her wrath for she will spare no tortures unto those who know of me, and I will not do that to…", trailed off Tara as a tear slid down her marred face as she stroked a soft finger across Faith's rosying cheeks.

"W-why do you look on at Faith with such tender gaze?", said Buffy with a delicate timbre as she saw the affection the witch offered the pirate whose pain racked shiverings had ceased as a restful slumber took her to its graceful perch.

"For she….Faith be t-the only one to e'er look upon me as someone of worth, to cast back the same tenderness as I gave. She be the only one to look past my scars and see my soul for what it be, that one glorious springtime she lay with me and I gave my heart as she did hers. Freely and without regret I swore my soul to hers. She returned last summer but in that time we…it be for different reasons she came to me"

"Y-you mean….you and F-Faith were….bound as l-lovers?", gasped Buffy feeling a ripple of jealousy spring forth into her mind though she wished not feel such strirrings and cursed its very roots which thorned well into her spirit.

"Aye, but I could not keep her from her true calling. Though we would be safe here, away from the ring o' shot and the slash o' steel, I could not take her from her path and…it did break my heart into angry slivers to tell her such lies…t-that I cared not for her and wished her from my Isle", said Tara with a straining pitch as burning tears snaked down the rivulets sliced deep into her cheeks, "I w-will always love her no matter what, but I can ne'er leave this isle without her paying a terrible price…..and for Faith….a destiny awaits her"

"Yes…the gallows", Buffy countered sadly for she could now see the breadth of Faith's true nature. The compassion gifted by the vicious pirate which did linger in a foul witch so torn that none but the sweetest and deepest of souls could find affection for. Such ideas confounded Buffy for though she be a God fearing soul whose swore love to her King, she could not bear to see the monarchs laws passed down unto the pirate who had risked so much and given all she had in defence of a woman who had done little but cock a snook at Faith.

"Nay, a great and noble destiny awaits her, one she would mock if e'er she were to learn of it….for Faith holds the keys to the kingdom …..I have foreseen it. 'Tis she who will…..I cannot say", finished Tara with drying eyes which had bled their sinister carriage.

"Cannot…or _**will**_ not?", asked Buffy casting her shelter o'er the pirate whose fingers flexed a touch.

"Tis not my place to tell of such things…for 'tis _**her**_ destiny and only she can follow that path"

"B-but what if…", began Buffy as she pushed back the loosening flow of white ribbon fixing back her golden cascades of hair.

"Nay Miss, I have told all I am willing to speak of. But I have told ye my truths, will ye answer me with yours?", said the witch with blunted meaning.

"I….yes, I swore it so and…", said Buffy as she brushed her fingers o'er the crooked brow of Faith as she looked down at the buccaneers twitching lips,"….and I would _**ne'er**_ break such a vow"

"Then answer me this, in yer heart, in yer mind….what is it you doth feel for Faith?"

"I-I beg your pardon?", coughed Buffy in a rattling shock.

"I can see ye feel for her, 'twas once clouded by hatred or pity methinks, but now something deeper stirs within your breast"

"I d-do not _**love**_ her", stammered Buffy as she writhed under the words.

"_**I**_ did not speak of love, but is that what you feel for her? Love?", smirked Tara as she did stoke a pipe carved from a dolphins jawbone with a twist of roots and petrified frogs skin of a crimson blend.

"N-nay, I...I may feel _**something**_for her….but 'tis not love"

"Do you know much of love's tangles? Have you e'er felt it curls snaring yer heart afore?"

"Well…no", said Buffy with a lilt to her voice which showed the questioning of her own belief.

"Then how do ye know 'tis not love ye feel for her? I can see in your eyes ye feel more for her than ye care to admit or understand"

"I…nay…I….she be….", said Buffy bearing the tilting masthead of calumny.

"Let me strike new bargain with ye…I shall not take of your flower…_**if**_ you admit your true feelings….that you feel love for her", offered Tara as she stretched out her hand, her sleeve riding past the gouges of flesh torn from her wrists.

"B-but I feel n-not such things", squawked Buffy in blaggard's deceitful hymn.

"But you are not amiss to having the chance to? I can tell something doth stir within your breast though it may not sting with desire as of yet, but does not every burning passion start with a smouldering ember? Ye would be wise to fan that flame afore 'tis snuffed out, Miss.", said Tara as she slit the gizzard of a decaying hummingbird and clenched its innards 'til it dripped greying blood into the clef of the pipe.

"I….but…", Buffy spluttered out for ne'er had someone spoken to her with such a way that the barriers surrounding her heart, as sturdy as nine inches of Cotswold greystone, crack'd and fell to ruins.

"Only someone who hath had their heart touched by Faith looks at her in such a way as you do. I know… for I share that same longing gaze, I know I cannot give Faith her true desires for I know her heart more than she does, and I can see…it now belongs to another. But ye be too ashamed that you could find love with her", said Tara with her dulling eye.

"S-stop saying that Miss, I do _**not**_ l-love Faith"

"Then tell her that, let her free of the hope I know she feels that one day you might tell her such words, I know Faith better than anyone, better than Kennedy or Xander could e'er hope to, I know the stitching o' her soul as if I patterned it's thread myself. So go ahead, gaze upon her and tell Faith that _**ne'er**_ in your life could you claim her heart, _**ne'er**_ will you tell her …you love her", mocked Tara with a challenging arc to her voice.

"I will" snorted back Buffy, offended at being cast as miscreants kin, and clasped tighter to Faith's clammy palm and looked down on the brow ruffled in agonies meant for her, the slight bow of the pirates succulent lips, the soft dimples which could enchant angels into sin.

"I…I…I..", coughed Buffy but her words splintered unto dust in her mouth for as she lay down her gaze she could not bring herself to say such things for she had sworn 'pon her father's grave that she could speak no untruths.

She let Faith's hand slip from her grip riddled with a fresh uncertainty and turned her heel to the door bursting out into the failing light of the approaching eve, as she stood in the curdled air she felt like screaming her tears away for she hated how they pooled for they simmered with self-doubt and anxiety's whim. But she could not bring herself to speak such callous falsehoods unto the ailing pirate whom had anchored well her heart. Buffy's shallow breath did rattle in her breast as she leaned 'gainst a wilting tree away from the crew and briefly stared the rum sodden vagabonds who talked in low slung voices.

Spike's tongue did curl as he took a firm swig o' grog from his battered flask and handed it to Mr Gunn who too let its heady swill run down and scour his gullet as the dark skinned Bo'sun scratched at the burning of his loins.

"Y'know…this witch might be able t'help ye with yer codlings", grinned Spike as he still struggled to find favour once more with his comrades in death or glory.

"Nay, I will take naught from a creature like this", snorted Mr Gunn nodding back to the hovel where Faith, his beloved Captain and dear friend, lay in the throes of purgatory.

"Mr Gunn, does yer drinkin' an' wenchin' not go 'gainst yer religion?", scoffed Spike as he took back his flask which were near drained of spiced arrack.

"A religion is a fine thing…if taken in moderation", winked the Bo'sun as he toyed with his tomahawk which he himself wrenched from the hand of a slaughtered chieftain when a slight misunderstanding o'er native custom near caused Faith and Kennedy to lose their scalps to outraged braves.

"An' ye fear not 'is judgment?"

"Nay, for though I know Allah will watch o'er me always, he has tested me greatly….but I failed him often"

"Why do ye say such things? Ye are a free man we pluck'd from slavery did we not?"

"You took a man who was no longer a man", sighed Mr Gunn as he crack'd his welted knuckles.

"Mimsies o' the grand! Ye mean t'say ye be a eunuch?", asked Spike in shock as his unlit clay stemmed pipe slipped from his hand and into the discarded carrion spread out around them in a blanket of lost mortality.

"What? Nay ye cully, I mean the man I once was, chaste and true, no longer exists. I once had honour and strength and I lost all…..because of the love for a woman, but now she is perished I have fallen from my ways, I know my faith hath faded fast and will continue 'til all that I once held proud is gone, Allah will always be with me unto death but the name I held on land means little to me now. The man known as Nwangi is gone, all that is left is Mr Gunn"

"Love? Ye fell into chains o'er a woman? What be the name o' this wench who felled a man such as ye?"

"Jasmine"

_**Back on board The Slayer**_

As eight bells rang out and the lunar goddess plied her sultry blessings 'pon all, The Slayer lilted softly at anchor where great cliffs drew towards the heavens to scratch at the velvet sky hued with blackened pitch and peppered with the glisten of stars, vast reaching rocks lined the harbour hiding them from the casting eye of spyglass.

Oz sat at the cabin table and scratched his well inked quill o'er the crackle of parchment as he drank his grog, his writing slurred and slanted but much had happened in the last few days and he desired to detail all that befell him and his crew. But his musings were crack'd verily by the fumbling streak of grey which slipped from his view once more as the monkey thudded to the bare oaken floor.

Oz pushed back in the woven chair purloined from a Genoan merchantman nary but two months earlier and stared between the finely carved swirls of timber that made the legs of the table. Wesley chittered wildly as the one eared capuchin rolled to his feet once more and poked at his tail which still smouldered from his brief curiosity with the burning oil lamp which swung lazily from the crossbeam.

"Dawn, hath you been giving drink to Wesley again?", the Doctor asked pushing his hat of plain castor back on his lofty crown, but seeing the wry grin of the young girl was all the answer he needed, "Tsk, drunken monkey"

Dawn toyed with her necklace forged by Faith from the teeth and broken finger bones of mutinous curs as she poured a touch more grog into her palm, for fuddling Wesley with rumfustian were a favoured pastime of hers much to her sister's disapproval. But a placid harmony rocked the ship and its crew of wanted fugitives who had spilled more blood yet taken less lives than legend would suppose. Though a fear of Tara and her godless ways still resounded in the snap o' the canvas above them Dawn's light hearted trust in the witch had soothed their frayed nerves, a gentle comfort which bled through the cloisters of The Slayer. From the steaming pots of the galley where Andrew tried to rouse Satsu from the fatigue dealt from Warren's rupturing of her hind quarters, all the way to the fo'c'sle where two women, also feeling the tranquillity of the eve, stood in close company.

Without chaperone…and without guilt.

"Just hold it firm, yer thumb reachin' round…that's it…feel the butt in your hand….now squeeze", purred Kennedy as she stood behind Willow, one arm snaked around the embroidered corsetry of the maid's shining yellow gown, the other held out in front of her sliding along the redhead's outstretched arm and her hand coiling round the fingers of Willow in which sat the butt of the pistol.

Kennedy's warm breath snaked down Willow's thin neck as if tender tickles by spirits caressed her skin, the maid shuddered at the warmth and grinned. The sound of the pistol shot rang out across the foredeck, a grey phantom of smoke coiling up from the steel barrel as the maid fell back in recoil against the steady frame of the temporary Captain.

"I-I fired a pistol….I actually fired a pistol?", gasped Willow as she span in the arms of Kennedy.

For the last hour or so the pirate had been teaching the redheaded beauty how to load, clean and finally set flint to the pan of a muzzler. The maid had baulked at first but with some gentle encouragement and, with the near death experience still rattling her very core, she saw that procrastination was a notion to be savoured only in polite society. For here on the waves life was brief and happiness even briefer, she had finally captured a glimpse of a real life, away from the pantry and minding her manners in the corner of the room as the landed gentry talked of cotton and wheat. Now her heart had felt the thud of action setting a squall of confusion ablaze in her soul.

"Be ye alright m'lady?", asked the pirate as she helped the redhead back to her feet who, for some reason, did not pull her petticoats back down to cover her ankles. Even going so far as to show a playful stretch of shin.

"For the last time Ken, I am no Lady and never will be, I am nothing but a maid and that is all I ever will be, from cradle to the grave I am to serve those who are better than me", said Willow shyly, unsure as to her tone for though she delighted in the company of her Mistress she was now feeling a slight distance between them. Not of a wick'd complacency but Willow's heart now played a minstrels tune of soft benevolence towards the pirate who stroked her cheek slowly.

"Nay Will, you will always be _**my **_lady. If I could, I would gift you tiara and sceptre and make you Queen o' my world…oh...I..I-I be sorry…I did not mean to be so forward with ye a-and.."

"It b-be…I..I-I do not…f-find…", stammered the redhead as her face flushed red under the soft tones and noble seduction of Kennedy.

"I…maybe I should go…"

"Nay, please stay…with me?", gushed Willow as her fingers snaked around the hand cupping her cheek and felt her intimacies rumble as she placed a chaste kiss on the palm of the pirate whose own breath heaved her ample bosom as if sail caught in the full throated shout of a tempest.

"I would stay with ye always….I wish to be no other place than at your side…m'lady", replied the buccaneer whose faith in Tara was resolute and so felt no qualms about being wrapped in her dalliance.

Kennedy moved closer into the embrace as both women shuddered with anticipations rippling, their lips merely an inch apart as their eyes pirouetted in harmonious movements, Willow's hand daringly reached up and, at the nod of the pirate, lay her thin fingers delicately on the plump breast of Kennedy as if she were touching a precious bloom freshly splaying its beauteous petals.

The maid's breath quivered as she felt the rigid peak of the breast through the rough cotton of the tight shirt draped over the pirates body, her fingers shaking as she pressed into the soft flesh as though her mind told her she was descending on the path to wick'dness, her heart's song rang in her ears with joyous tones of divinity, an echoing refrain of unbridled ecstasy like angels had pluck'd their harps in blessed song just for her.

"K-K-Ken…may I….I mean…m-may I..", stammered Willow with terrified words as she willed her fears away.

"Will, you may ask anything you like, for if it helps…. I will ne'er refuse ye"

"Ken! Get yer arse t'the skillet!", came the roaring boom from the capstan as the two recoiled back for their moment of binding was torn away from them by one ill-timed bluster of voice.

"Dammit, I best go….but will ye wait for me?", sighed Kennedy staring down aft at the struggling Marcie encoiled with hempen line.

"Aye, aye Cap'n", smiled Willow with a mocking salute.

"Hehe….I love ye Will", smirked Kennedy as she bounded across the decks leaving a stunned maid bathing in the glory of the night and the residue of sweetened embrace.

"Y-you….you love m-me?", gasped Willow to herself as she stepped to one side, the layers of delicately stitched petticoats rustling well and the bow of her silken bustle shaking as she felt her head lighten, but the curling of lips grew into smile tainted with worry, for she knew not if she could find the courage to return such words.

Even though such a sentiment was surely being stitched further onto her heart with each meeting. A stitching she could ne'er unravel.

_**Back on Tabula Rasa**_

"But if I doth refuse….well I do not want my head to be shrunken", said Anya still holding tight her fear of Tara, snatching the last licks of grog from Spike's flask, their duelling camps forgotten as the sun sank behind the haze which hung o'er the swamp.

"It be not done whilst yer head is still on yer body, ye bluff bowed collier. First they slice the skin up yer side an'…."

"Hold, I do not want to know", coughed Anya as she felt great unease with each second spent in the company of a demon leper and a murderous witch on an isle forsaken even by those who wallowed in misanthropy.

"Be ye alright Miss?", asked Xander as he pulled away from the maudlin pack for he could see the vexing of Buffy's spirit being played out as contorted strain on her face for her mind was unfurling with strange tangents.

"Yes..I…nay..I….good Sir, I know not what to think", replied Buffy as she fluffed the snowy mechlin lace of her cravat and stretched her neck well pulling tight the tan weskit around her middle.

"Aye, I know the troubles the heart can bear, for I too have felt the wake of malice from bearing one's love unto another, back in another life I shed many moons ago"

"So you were not born of this life?", said Buffy thankful for the distraction from her own whispered musings.

"Nay, I did not join The Ascension 'til late in its life when I were just removed from being a boy. 'Tis only now I near the ripe ol' age of nine and twenty that have found my true place in this world", he replied as he sheathed his flintlock after reloading its cleansed steel pan.

"I see, but if you did not join this ship 'til you were on the cusp of manhood, where did ye lie your head?", she queried in return.

"I were still back in Maine and had not yet gone to account"

"So how did ye…I mean you, end up here?"

"Well", Xander sighed as her straightened his aching back, "Like all good yarns…it were a woman that befell me. A beauty that stole my heart, though she had a few years on me I succumbed to 'er charms wholly and happily, despite our troubles. Though I were yet to take up arms 'gainst the King I spent the folly o' my youth thievin' and pickin' the pockets of many the fine gents o' the streets. But Natalie an' I were happy though we risked all everytime we went out a nickin'. But one day, she were caught stealing just a few loaves o' bread, naught more than mouldy crumbs to feed us but she were convicted and sentenced afore sun up the next day"

"A-and yourself?", stammered Buffy as though she were acclimating to the whims of the pirates it still flooded her with fear that the law of the crown could be so easily dismissed.

"I went t'the gaol and admitted my crimes but they cared little for they thought me but a feeble boy whose lies were spun to save a spread legged damsel. But they took us both t'the gallows anyway in a ramshackle ol' cart and as the rope looped around her neck I…I wept for her an' begged f'r her life. They mocked me for such womanly ways an' the gallowsman threw me t'the floor and coiled a rope round my neck and choked me 'til near insensible"

"Good Lord in heaven", gushed Buffy as she fiddled awkwardly with the cut of her plum britches, "I be so sorry for you"

"Spare me thy pity Miss, though we were both guilty she were sentenced t'swing as she took the bread, an' they made me watch as she breathed her last. But instead o' letting me take her for a good Christian burial they dragged me t'the cart which took us there, I were stripped t'the waist and tied t'the tail, they hauled me round town bein' whipped for me crimes by the damn'd nobles o' the town. I will not show ye the scars but….all day I were lashed and when the pain were too much and I passed out they roused me with a bucket o' freezin' water afore they started again. Natalie's body were dumped in a paupers grave and I took t'sea, I found no justice nor mercy on land and so swore to find it 'pon the waves"

Buffy stewed in her silence for she knew not how to offer words of comfort to such an aggrieved man

"Take it from someone who has loved and felt the bitter wrenching of hearts promise, this life we lead is short and bloody, we live each day as though it may be our last, so Miss Summers, if this were your last day on god's earth….what would ye do? Would ye spend it in silent restraint, fear of judgment and swathed in loneliness. Or would you spend yer last hours of yer life feeling yer hearts call and succumbing to the wish o'yer soul. I would suffer the lash forevermore if only I could hold my Natalie once more"

"B-but I thought Anya was your beloved?", asked Buffy simply.

"She…I would rather not say, but bear my words t'mind Miss, no burden or sufferin' can calm the burnin' of love when it claws into yer heart"

"I..I…", whispered Buffy as she felt ripples in her heart where once she knew naught but calm, a thundering where once she felt naught but solace, but as she looked into Xander's single eye glistening with the love he felt for a lost soul, her rigid demeanour floundered greatly for his words did ring with the spirit with which she always envied.

"We will not judge thee for listenin' to yer own's hearts melody. For as Mr Gunn always says _'is it not written that a wise man will follow his dreams ….not fear them_", said Xander without piety.

"I….I must thank your lady friend for defending my virtue with such noble stead", said Buffy as she once more fought to place barriers 'tween her and resolution.

"Aye, it be most odd she should want a Lady such as thee to remain whole 'til…"

"What be that noise?", Anya barked as her ears pricked up on Xander's words as her palm reddened on the hilt of her blade.

"It sounds like….crying?", said Mr Gunn also feeling the peak of curio's instinct.

"Mayhaps it be Faith?"

"I think not good Sir, it sounds like it comes from hither", said Anya pointing to a brush of crested shrubs which barely shuffled in the dying breeze.

Hearing a tumult carried in the wind Xander's eye followed the sounds into the clawing roots and simmering leaves as Clem wandered from the clutch of vines baring his pointed teeth which dripped with spittle, his feculent breath lingering over a crying baby in his arms.

"Y-you cackle fussed oggin..…get away from her!", cried Anya as she unsheathed her sword and thrust it towards the glowering man who stepped back in surprise.

"Huh?"

"I-I will not let you eat this child!", she said as she thrust her sword forward and sliced through his flaps of loosened skin dangling from his arm but no flinching or agonies did he feel.

"What? Why would I do that?", Clem scoffed back casting a casual glare down to the inch long gash where blood did trickle free to pool in the folds of his blemished skin.

"Shhh girl, ye be safe now", cooed Mr Gunn as he snatched up the bawling child and backed away behind the steel wielding Anya .

"Firstly it's a _**he**_, but why on earth would I eat a baby? I am not a monster", scoffed Clem as the baby reached out to the limping man who bore the ravages of leprosy with dignified grace.

"T-then why does it cry out in fear?"

"He cries out because he is soiled", said Clem motioning to the brown stains on the child's swaddling cloth.

"Twice I have cut you now and still you feel no pain, have ye sold your soul to the devil?", said Anya as disbelief clamped her senses foul.

"Leprosy has robbed me of feeling cold or hot, all I feel is…"

"The hunger for baby flesh?", she fired back holding her blade to him once more.

"Nay ye cully, I feel no pain. All I feel is in my heart, sadness and joy be the virtues which I live by", said Clem drawing his malformed body towards the infant.

"B-but what…how do ye…"

"What be …..oh avast there young Richard", smiled Xander as he raised the child from Mr Gunn's burly arms, as he did so the mewling ceased to be replaced by soft wheeze of wonderment seeing the one eyed man who jiggled him in his arms.

"Xander, ye know of this?", coughed the Bo'sun as his naked pate felt the trickle of sweat once more.

"Of course, it were me an' Faith who brought him here. Hoi there, Richard. My how you've grown", said the one eyed pirate as the gurgling baby ceased his tears and flashed a warm and dewy smile as Xander tickled him under the chin. The infant saying but one word which tore through the crew more than any grapeshot or feculent plague.

"Da-da?"

"Y-y-you….he….he be….o-o-of..", Anya stammered well as she felt her blood turn to do dust for betrayals lash did flog at her soul.

"Nay, he doth call _**all**_ by that name, even Tara", smiled Clem as watched the tenderness of Xander play out freely.

"Then who be his mother and father?", asked Buffy placing a soft hand on the infant's plumpened cheek.

"Do ye know of Mary Read and Calico Jack?", said Xander to the finely dressed Lady.

"Indeed, I have read much of their piracy. But I thought they be captured and hang'd these months past?", replied Buffy feeling a motherly swash ripple through her for she melted upon seeing the soft sticky brown eyes of the toddler whose fingers latched onto her own as she stroked his soft skin lovingly.

"That be true, we mourned it most greatly for as soon as Faith took t'the tides she fell in with Mary an' kindled well their friendship, but Jack would ne'er fight like a man so when they were taken he were hang'd like a simpering dog. Near a year or so ago Mary swelled 'er belly with his child so me and Faith took her to Puerto Rico so she could give birth away from the scourge o' piracy"

"A year ago? I remember that for ye were gone for two months, ye said that ye and Faith were piped t'the bodkins an' searching for the treasure of El…", snapped Anya.

"I were sworn t'secrecy, think little of if Ahn", said Xander fearing the coarse words brewing on the tongue of his woman, "Anyway, when the lil' one were born, Mary named Faith to be the child's godmother…"

"More like God-_less-_mother", snipped Anya once more as her brow furrowed under the stretch of stars which now twinkled with victorious glee.

"Ahn please. When Mary called on Faith for such a boon, well 'twas the only time I had e'er seen Faith weep with joy…but within a week Mary had left the baby with a missionary for she could not resist the call o' the waves and returned to her ship. Faith were most angered that she could turn so quick on her own kin, but the Cap'n knew that as soon as the Navy or other pirates found out where this child was they would use it as leverage to reel Mary an' Jack in, so Faith spirited the baby away in the night and brought him here where he could be raised in safety. Far from the flash of blade or the crack of shot, she wanted to give him a decent life but being a wanted pirate she could not. Though she loves him dear 'tis better she sees him not, but she did name him after her father as Mary did not even name the child. I know it doth break Faith's heart that she cannot give her godson the life he needs, but what else can she do?"

"W-what if she were to be pardoned by the King? Then could she not raise the baby as her own?", asked Buffy as the baby squealed in delight at her tickles.

"With her crimes behind her? The only way she would e'er receive mercy is by leading the whole damn'd navy to the hellmouth and helping capture all our brethren there, and hand over her ship and her booty an' cast her crew away. She would ne'er do that, she would suffer a thousand torments worse than Marys Blood afore she ever gives up the location of the hellmouth and Madam Dru", stated Xander with defiant truth.

"But this child needs a real family", said Buffy sadly for she knew the joy of loving parents, a simple gift this infant would ne'er know.

"I know Richard does not belong here, he deserves more than be raised in hiding by a scabrous leper and a tormented witch. I wish more for him and I pray one day he will find his truth, but 'til that day 'e will be our world. Come Xander, let me change 'im", said Clem taking the dampened child back from the pirate.

"Alright….he really is a treasure", smiled Xander.

"Aye, an' I do love him greatly…an' I would breathe my last to protect 'im. No matter what lot ye be cast by life….love is the one thing that pain nor death can halt. To forego love is to forego life, trust me on this", said Clem furtively as he wiped away a stray tear and slipped away with the baby who kicked his legs merrily.

Buffy, her mind braced by the parting words of the leper which carried well on the thickened wind, took one last steadying breath and silently stepped back into the shack where Tara hovered over Faith with comforting eye, as the Lady stood there in sullen admiration of the bond the witch and the pirate shared, Buffy forced her choking breath into language.

"Tell me Miss, w-would you h-h-have….", she forced through her teeth as her skin flushed red from button nose to pointed toe.

"Look at me, would _**ye**_ wish t'lay with me out of yer own heart's wish? Nay. But I would ne'er take a gem such as thee in so callous a trade", replied Tara as she poured forth a measure of wine she had brewed from local herbs and fermented fruit.

"Then why did ye…"

"I wished to see if ye were willing to hear the siren of your soul, to find the strength to cast off the beliefs forced 'pon ye since birth and find yer own mind. Tell me Miss, what _**do**_ ye feel for Faith?"

"S-she…she infuriates me more than any I have ever known, she befuddles me with her violent ways and foul tongue but…"

"But what?", pressed Tara as the quiver of drink set to her bones while she stoked well the blazing fire which spat and crackled with purpling smoke.

"B-but she enchants me with her courage, with the tenderness she shows to Dawn and any of her crew, with the nobility she fights so hard to keep at bay…"

"So ye _**do**_ love her?"

"I said not such things"

"Maybe not with words…but your eyes ne'er lie", said Tara as she watched the darkened centres of Buffy's eyes contract to pinpricks for though the flaxen haired maiden could forge such sentiments on her lips, her sudden silence gave weight to all the witch had implied.

"So ye ne'er wished t-to…snatch my flower for your own pleasures?"

"What may I say….I be ye olde worlde's finest actress", smirked the witch.

"So be this all a sham? The sacrifice of animal and the worship of pagan altar?", said Buffy feeling victim to merrymaking at her expense.

"No, I ne'er said that", smirked Tara as she raised up a bloody knife and the still flicking tail of a serpent before dropping it into her broth.

"B-but you _**were**_ jesting when you asked for such a price? Y-you really would not ask of such things…w-would you?", stammered Buffy as the sorrowed pillar of doubt once more staked its place.

"I did not say that", winked Tara with her one eye, "But I owe Faith much, as she does to….well that is not for me to say. But ye be set well in her heart an' I would ne'er betray her trust"

"You may have asked for all the treasures of Faith's purse, but ye did no. Do ye not envy the sparkle of gems?", asked Buffy with a curious aspect to her hazel gaze.

"The rubies which are rent from the harsh jungle mines of India, dug from the hardest rock by slave children, or the emeralds cajoled from the mountains o' Colombia by slave children? Aye, they use the tiniest o' children since their little fingers can pick out the smallest o' gems from the tons of rock an' dirt. As young and tiny as possible, they are put t'work til their fingers are blunt and bleeding from the bone. Such things abhor me, trinkets such as this mean little to me"

"Oh, be I…shallow to be enchanted by such things?", said Buffy feeling her grandiosity of old to be a spriteful whim.

"Nay, but ye should know the sufferings behind such treasures, they are wrenched from the earth in suffering and as they traverse the world only pain, blood and death are left in their wake"

"Oh"

"Now partake of this", said Tara as she wrenched a brazing brand from the crackling fire 'neat her cauldron and touched it to the stocked clef of the pipe.

"Nay, I do not smoke", replied Buffy drawing her hands from the offered stem.

"'Tis not for yer pleasure Miss, ye must draw the smoke into ye… afore breathing it into Faith"

"W-why?"

"'Tis the last o' the charm, she needs to feel the fire o' life bellow in her breast"

"I mean, why me? Why do you not perform it?", coughed Buffy unsure of such pagan rites.

"It must be ye…and ye alone"

"B-but…I do not understand…"

"Miss, do it now….or Faith will not last 'til sunrise", said Tara as a mask of austerity quashed her leading bluff which none would know of.

"B-but such notions, be it not sacrilege to give foundation to heresies like this?"

"Just do it, Miss. Or else Faith's shroud be placed on her by yer own hands"

Buffy felt the desperation clinging to Tara's words and took the well scratched pipe into her hands and, with a moment of hesitation, slipped the thin stem 'tween her dry lips, so festered in the moment that she paid little heed to Xander's curious head sneaking into the darkness.

As Buffy drew the stodgy grey fog, which had a sniff of quinine in its phantom gills, into her cavern where glistening ivory subjects sat in silence, her eyes watered well for ne'er had she supped 'pon the flavours of pipe before. As nausea and confusion bore into her Buffy leant forward and pressed her lips to the flickering lips of Faith and breathed forth the scouring richness of the smoke before she sat back up on her tender velvet strewn haunches.

As the burning smog clawed down her throat Faith sprang bolt upright she gasped desperately as her eyes shot around, unveiled and vulnerable as if she were a new born sudden struck with the burn of light and shock. She gasped and flailed her limbs, her breath heaving like scratching blades 'gainst her ribs as her fiery orbs were doused by the soul of Faith reigniting.

"Fai…shhhh….calm yerself….shhhh", said Tara as she cradled Faith in her arms, as the pirate panted for air her arms snapped round the witch who hissed in pain as the wounds on her back stretched tight.

Buffy looked on in surprise at the sudden re-emergence of life into Faith and could not help the tugging of her lips into thankful smile and scrawled within her mind a forget-ye-not to include Tara in her prayers that night.

"…..T…?", gasped Faith in little more than fevered smoke edged whisper as her eyes squinted in the hovel, the dancing glow of flames casting strange shadows 'pon their clogged skin.

"Aye, fear not Fai…..for ye be safe", soothed Tara as she fought to hold back tears, not for a friend near lost, but for a love she could ne'er reclaim.

"W-w-why be I-I here?", asked the pirate as her words carried the echo of smoke but here in the wash of Tara's voice she felt safe and comforted in the strong and bitterly scarred arms of the witch.

"Ye were poisoned….Mary's Blood….do ye recall naught?"

"I..I….am unsure, w-what magicks did ye c-cast on me", asked Faith as she felt her blood be hers again as she wrenched free from the unclean and slobbering muzzle of death once more.

"I did little, it were Miss Summers who did breathe the billow o'life back into thee", said Tara nodding to the smartly dressed woman who shrank back under the fresh shimmer bleeding into Faith's groggy stare.

"B?", said Faith in shock as she turned her throbbing head to the form of Buffy who stepped back towards the branched doorway. Faith drew her shaking fingers to her lips and felt a fizzing lingering warmth which was not hers. She tasted the smoky dew with her tongue and felt her eyes simmer with a stirring she fought hard not to feel again.

Buffy's mouth fell open as she stared into the livening eyes of Faith and, in a stark moment of clarity, could feel the words of Tara reverberate around her heart for, as much as she hated to admit it, Buffy _**did**_ feel something for Faith. Though she knew not of the intricacies of love, her soul felt a warm rousing as she stared into the eyes of Faith which were slowly being reclaimed by the feisty pirate queen.

"I.I…I should tell the others", stammered Buffy with a blush as she felt hypnotized by the heaving breasts of Faith which the witch soon covered with the flag torn from a Flemish skillet which floundered many years earlier in a scurrilous storm.

"Wait, B…..be this t-true? I owe ye my life?", asked the pirate meekly.

"A-as I owe you mine", grinned Buffy shyly as she stepped out from the hovel and into the throng of freebooters who stood idle.

"Miss, what be wrong?", asked Mr Gunn seeing the pensive look entrenched on Buffy's face

"What….who….er….Faith is alive…I mean _awake_….Faith, is awake", she smiled heartily.

"Huzzah! God be praised", they yelled in unison as they barrelled into the mud forged shack with Buffy's eyes shooting wide open as Xander gave her a swift but sincere hug of gratitude.

"Avast there skipper", grinned Spike as he saw the sparkle return to Faith's dark orbs as she rested 'gainst the figure of Tara.

"Aye, Spike", she replied with an unsaid thanks ricocheting off her simple words.

"Dammit, Faith. You e'er die on me again… an' I'll kill you", grinned Xander as he knelt down to hug the pirate who still sweated heavily and ached all over.

"Do ye realise how crook-pated that sounded?", Faith said with the faint hint of a chuckle.

"Aye, but ye know..without ye…", he said switching to deft seriousness.

"I know Xan….I feel the same", she replied kissing his cheek tenderly as she slyly wiped a tear away. "Wait…who hath my ship?"

"Fear not Faith, Kennedy took charge and steered us well, even bested a sou-easter o' bone rattlin' grandness"

"How bad?"

"Worse than the one off Havana"

"Damn", said Faith with surprise, "Ken really is a good 'un"

"Aye, she really be", replied Xander as trivial words bandied 'tween the Captain and her loyal crew of rum sodden miscreants.

Tara turned back to her fire, a kindly warmth flowing free amongst her guests, and fumbled with clay pots throwing her straggled hair back o'er her shoulder showing the swathe of skin across her nape despoiled with ink.

"Good gad, she doth bear the mark of Eyghon", hissed Anya as she swiftly crossed herself.

"The what?", asked Buffy.

"The tattoo on her neck, the tribal eye. 'Tis an omen of evil, only those betrothed to the devil bear such a mark!"

"Anya, ye dare say one word 'gainst Tara and… I will pull yer face off through yer ass", growled Faith with little menace for her strength was still slowly flooding back, as she watched Anya cross herself once more and fumble for the rosary beads lent to her by Warren.

"B-but…she will…."

"I said no more Anya, though I may not be the best o'shape I will still find pleasure in wrenching yer tongue free", said the Captain through narrowed eyes which burnt with protection o'er the witch.

"Good t'have ye back, Cap'n", smiled Mr Gunn feeling most relieved that Faith could still swear bloody retribution on any who irked those who dwelt within her heart.

"Fai, someone here wants to see ye", said Clem diffusing the tension as he slipped into the hovel and lay the wide eyed child in the arms of Faith who nestled into her weakened grasp as if her were moulded to her.

"A-avast there sweetheart", said the pirate as though her arms burned like sulphured bones she held the mewling infant tenderly as she fought to keep her tears back, but her grin of solace could not be reeled in so easily.

"Mama?", said the chubby faced infant as he looked up and gave a toothless smile 'pon seeing Faith's glowing eyes.

"Not quite, my lil' one…not quite", said the savage Queen o' the cutlass whose repute would be forever tarnished if word of such tenderness reached the prints of the Boston Newsletter. Buffy could not help but feel a shimmering warmth at the tender scene of the doe eyed pirate and a gurgling innocent whose tiny fingers grasped round Faith's battle hardened scars.

"It be late, we should head back to The Slayer. Clem, could ye guide us back", said Xander knowing how much Faith treasured her time with the babe who played with her trails of damp and listless hair.

"Nay, Faith may be revived but she still needs much in the way of healing. She will rest here for tonight….with me", said Tara as she stroked the pirates bedraggled hair back from her wan face.

"And so shall I…that is I-I mean, I –I think I should stay too…in case you need help, for have I not nursed these Faith past days?", asked Buffy as a sudden surge of jealousy roared through her body as she feared what the woman who had professed her undying love for Faith could do. And just how the pirate would thank her, a stern territoriality sparking in Buffy as once more she felt reviled that another woman could dare to show such intimacy with Faith.

"Ye have?", asked Faith looking up in shock gilded with a touch of awe.

"W-w-well I….the good Doctor and….Dawn too…..and…well….", blustered forth Buffy as she had given little thought to her diligent nursing of the fallen pirate.

"I-it seems I have much to thank ye for, B", smiled Faith as she had ne'er felt such a thawing around her heart like she did when Buffy's soft eyes met her own. "I thank ye Miss, most honestly I do"

"You're welcome", replied Buffy shyly as the quivering of her innards started in earnest.

"Very well, Tara, ye take care of 'em well, ye hear?", said Mr Gunn as he knelt down and pressed his lips to Faiths forehead as he silently thanked Allah for answering his prayers, his faith swelling a notch. "Sleep well my Cap'n"

"Ye too, Mr Gunn", said Faith as she giggled at Richard's whimsical prodding of her well-rounded breasts.

"Trust me Sir, Faith an' her lady friend will be fine", said the witch in gentle tone as she stood in proud stance.

"Tara, I fear I owe you an apology. Though ye may be heathen and destined for an eternity of hellfire….ye saved the Cap'n and I wish ye no harm, despite yer heresy. Will ye take my hand in peace?", asked Mr Gunn as he slipped his hand from the butt of his pistol and stretched it out before him.

"Aye, I will", replied Tara as she let her cracking fingers slide into Mr Gunn's firm grip, a detaching smile bonding them.

"Miss Buffy, have ye words ye wish to convey t'yer maid", asked Spike warily eyeing the three women who wished to spend the dark hours alone.

"Oh…yes..I…please tell her I am well…and safe", said Buffy as she looked down at the pirate who cooed softly at the babe in her arms, for seldom in her life had the lady felt such a kinship, and ne'er would she think that a rogue and a cut-throat could incite such feelings in her.

"Aye, we will see ye at first light", said Spike as the crew bid their thankful farewells and slipped into the darkness. As the still of the crawling swamp swirled around their heavy footpads the much relieved crew spake in jovial, yet mocking, tones as their long journey continued.

"Xan, you speak such nonsense"

"I know I have but one eye Spike, I knows what I sees. Miss Buffy kissed Faith….and the Cap'n's spirit o' life returned to her, I tells yer!", pressed Xander in gushing flow of bewitchment.

"Pah, ye be muddled o' the crown me ol' mucker", snorted Spike in derisions tomb.

"Nay, I know what I saw, it could be naught but…..true love's kiss"

_**Meanwhile, on the vast bleak splay of the ocean**_

"Captain Edmonds, can we make no further haste?", asked Sir Rupert Giles, knight of the realm and proud scion of a Kentish family, as he stared out desperately to the bleak horizon which carried not the welcome of beacon or the silhouette of port. His spindly frame feeling the lash of growing breeze as it had done since he set sail from Portsmouth on the most gravest of business.

"Sir, we have every inch of canvas, even a stretch of drabblers unfurled to harness this levant", called back the smartly dressed Captain who ruled the HMS Merlin with an iron rod and a fast lash, though he had obliged the brigs crew to tip the carronade o'er the portside to increase their forlorn flight, the bespectacled Viceroy, who bore a feathery plume in his tricorn, was in true command and demanded swifter heels.

Sir Rupert, a Master of Trinity House, the guild which looked after the interests of seamen and shipping of England, felt the crunch of salted timbers 'neath his glistening brogues and the itch of his tar pitch stockings as he fumbled once more with his silvered pocket-watch. It were engraved with the sweetened words of Jennifer, daughter of the grandest industrialist of the black country, whose untimely passing to consumption made Giles an embittered widow afore he could even speak his vows unto her in Salisbury Cathedral.

"I fear it not be enough, Captain I implore you to raise your vessel's petticoats and make greater speed", said Giles as he felt the contents of his lengthy pocket inside his gaudy blue longcoat whose brass buttons and golden brocade glinted in the silvery moonlight washing o'er the lean Younker. His well buffed fingertips ran o'er the parchment which not only bore the intent of Parliament but also was bound by the seal of His Majesty the King himself.

"What be thy hurry anyhow, Sir?", asked the Captain fluffing his finely trimmed beard as he watched Giles take off his stylish beaver hat of narrow peak and slump his worried shoulders.

"I fear a great treachery hath unravelled in my stead", sighed Sir Rupert for as soon as he heard word of the demise of Governor Summers, also retained by Trinity House, he set course for the House Of Lords for though he had met Henry Summers but once, he was trusted most highly by the Guild and therefore also by Sir Rupert.

The reports Governor Summers had sent back in secret had greatly concerned the Guild, though the evidence of duplicity had been lost at sea of late, Sir Rupert had been fearful enough to confront Parliament with such a pressing matter and was sent with haste to the dusky rounds of the Caribbean, the figurehead for the British fleet amassing in sudden panic.

"Sir, we can only go as fast as God's breath fills our sails.", reasoned the Captain watching the well-stitched canvas coil and flap in the strengthening winds.

"Then Sir, we must pray for friendly tides to aid us to New Swaffham….before 'tis no more!"


	12. Chapter 12

_**(Thanks to crazycindy, MayDaFait'hBeWidYa, my Lilly, squeewockle, CMiller, igon, and Fire Tiger Lily. Yes, this so-called short chapter turned out a lot longer than I intended as once more I got carried away on a tide of esoteric and superfluous words ;)**_

_**In the hovel on Tabula Rasa **_

"Now start with yer talkin' or else", said Tara with a stern gilt to her playful words as she forced a fine bone comb, with many teeth missing much like the witch herself, through the straggling mass of tangles which splayed down from Faith's bump ridden crown.

"Or else what?", replied the pirate who, despite her feeble protests, had succumbed to Tara's insistence that she needed to scour the reek of ammonia and vomit from her skin. Clem had brought in pails of heated water as the witch used dampened rags to wash down the grime ridden Faith, each frayed cotton sheathe now carried the thick blackened soot which seemed to be infused to the cut-throats body. But as the filth and foul scents wiped from her it seemed to breathe a gentle radiance, almost a befuddling innocence, to the svelte form of the slightly gaunt brunette.

"Or else I will tell Buffy ye cried when I combed yer hair", giggled Tara lightly as she mollycoddled the pirate who, in the passing of but an hour, was near righted to her old self but still felt the curs'd wake of near death.

"B-but I did no such thing", coughed Faith as fidgeted in the soft cotton hanging limply over her frame, a beacon of simple elegance to offset the mire of the ramshackle dwelling. The sputtering hues of orange and red cast from the fire catching on Faith's skin which glowed with newly found vibrancy, the powder and blood of her office washed free.

"I know, but ye know the wildfire o'rumours…. or mayhaps I should tell her of the secret of Brazil? What was it now? Oh aye, the Ambassador put a hefty price on yer head…."

"T", Faith said with a hint of worry and a soupcon of caution.

"…when his daughter, yet to be betrothed to a nobleman, yielded unto thee and…."

"Tara, I be warning thee", but the mere words of the great sage had unleashed a memory which Faith had not recalled in a long time.

_**FLASHBACK**_

_Faith rummaged in the drawers of Ambassador Shipman, it had taken her near a week to gain his fleeting trust and now, as she tossed aside parchments of deceitful commerce and unsigned death warrants, she did betray that trust with glee. By the flickering of a single candle her hands rooted deeper into the drawers of his imported mahogany table but ceased her rustling when she happened upon a small box of inadequate craftsmanship._

_She picked its lock within the passing of seconds and there, amongst the rare cast doubloons and unearned medals of conduct lay the treasure she had sought hard. As she held it to the thin speckled light she could see the small pewter coin bearing numbers scrawled into both sides, to the casual eye it seemed of little value but Faith knew of its worth for its marks were the key to the greatest treasure in pirate lore. But without the map, which still eluded her after all these years, it was little more than a trinket bearing a promise of untold riches._

"_Sister! What are you doing?", came the shrill voice from behind her as Torrance, daughter of the Ambassador, slid into the study with her small oil lamp in one hand, the other holding the billows of her flouncing nightgown which swished round her ankle in discretion._

"_Oh..I…er..", coughed Faith as she slammed the drawer shut and span round to the naïve girl who stood on the precipice of womanhood, "I were….er…lookin' for….er..powder and shot, yes that be it…powder and shot!"_

"_Why?", asked the girl in a hushed voice as she crossed the__ room she was seldom allowed into, the dim glow of her lamp catching the ornate frames of the paintings by Paulo Uccello and Piero Dell Francesca which her father seem to treasure more than his own offspring._

"_Miss Torrance, what are you doing?", asked another voice making both Faith and Torrance jump again._

"_Whitney! You scared me, but…nothing….back to bed with you", hissed Torrance hoping their words had not disturbed the gruff Governess whose swift cane and fondance for gin were well known._

"_But Miss…oh…be that a nun?", asked the dim witted serving girl as her eyes strained in the hazy light cast from her own candle near burnt to the poorly made wick._

"_Yes my dear", said Faith softly as she sneaked back into character as she scratched at the maddening itch 'neath the stark white cotton of the wimple framing the pirates face._

"_Oh yes, Whitney you were out when the good Sister came, it were father's idea. Oh, but where are my manners, this is my hand maiden Whitney…"_

"_Sister", said the serving girl politely to the Carmelite nun who slid her purloined coin into her half boot and stepped out from behind the grandly designed table._

"_Whitney, this is Sister Echo", said the quiet blonde girl with a certain reverence._

"_Sister _**Echo**_?", said the maid with a furrowed brow for she herself had once entertained the notion of taking solemn vows unto Christ, "'Tis a strange name, I thought nuns named themselves after hallowed saints__"_

"_That is true, but….I had a vision", replied Faith clasping her hands together as if in prayer and stared towards the heavens as she span her well-rehearsed lie, "The good Lord came unto me….he told me to take his love and let it echo throughout the world, so I live by his word of echoing his blessed message. Young lady, do ye doubt the word of God?"_

"_No Sister", she blustered back in panic for Whitney was a most pious woman and though she was now in a household perched in a forgotten realm of the Kingdom the maid still wished the word of Christ to flourish to these heathen natives. For Rancho Carne, a small but growing island colony bustling with unfortunates and evangelists off the roughened coast of Brazil, was in a far flung corner of the world with the flags of many nations proudly flying from the tall ships in its harbour all falling into the empire of His Majesty._

"_Good child, now let us return to our chambers", said Faith ushering the two young women back towards the creaking door of the study whose lock now remained broken by the forceful thrust of the pirate who had used the English Civil War steel ramrod which Mr Shipman proudly displayed on the wall of the morning room, though after the war had ceased his family lost most their lands in the puritan backlash 'gainst his kin._

"_But why are you here, Sister?", asked the loose tongued maid whose hair was swept into long tight plaits turning to the pretty nun who moved with a strange lack of humility__._

"_Whitney!", s__pat Torrance in a heavy whisper, "be not so rude to a woman of the cloth. I do apologise Sister Echo"_

"_It be fine", said Faith with a wide smile forged of deceit and the desire they not notice the open window. For Faith had thieved a potato sack from the kitchen and filled it with the monogrammed silverware of the house afore lowering it into the lush and well-tended garden below where her one eyed accomplice lay in silent wait._

"_But are you not the same age as we?", continued Whitney as her legs flicked under the light blue nightgown which she had spent many a happy hour embroidering with psalms._

"_I am older than I look, but you are right, child", said Faith condescendingly as she followed the two young women up the creaking stairs starting to greatly dislike the serving girl of the house, "Many of us in the Holy Order Of Rossum are still lacking in years, but we have seen much of the world and know of its horrors. That is why Ambassador Shipman, whilst he is away on business, asked me into his house as there is no-one finer that a nun like me to show the young ladies of today how to resist temptation", replied the Captain as she shifted awkwardly 'neath her wimple, the long flowing black habit swishing around her naked body having decided to forego the hessian undergarments which so many brides of Christ endured._

"_The Holy Order Of Rossum? I have not heard of such a blessed saint", said Torrance as she stepped into her chamber followed by Whitney._

"_Oh, he were indeed a fine man, Miss. The patron saint of..er…um…..protection", Faith finished with a raised voice as her feeble bluff poured from her lips, but upon hearing a stirring in another room, the wanted buccaneer too slipped into the bedroom of Torrance closing the heavy wooden door silently._

"_Sister, you look familiar. Tell me, have you ever been to Nantucket?", asked Torrance with a quizzical hum._

"_Oh Miss Torrance, do you recall when we were there and young Master Pantone…."_

"_Hush Whitney", chided Torrance as a blush tingled her cheeks well as Faith looked on with a knowing smirk._

"_Nay, I have ne'er been to Nantucket", Faith lied as she listened for the footsteps in the marble lined corridor to fade away before she could make good her escape, "But ladies, ye should go t'sleep"_

"_And you, Sister?", asked Torrance._

"_I..er..I will be awake for a while….praying", the Captain once more ending her sentence with a high lilt lending it a curious aspect._

"_Sister, I must ask. Why were you looking for powder and shot anyway?", asked the Lady-to-be of the house._

"_Well my child", Faith sighed as she heard the light giggles from the corridor from whence the butler had propositioned the drink sizzled Governess, she knew she was trapped for a while longer, "There be many men out there who would find ye desirable….but not suitors to charm ye. Brutes who would kick down yer door and ravage yer hides well. But I found no shot so I cannot protect ye like that"_

"_Good gosh Sister! W-whatever should we do?"_

"_Well….'tis well known that a brutish man, of which there are many in this damn'd port, seek out young damsels in order t'take their flower like it were a trophy. Trust me, if ye were no longer pure….then men would not seek ye out to defile you. Ye would be most safe from harm, but those who bear the burden of chastity…..oh dear", said Faith leadingly as her wicked web drew its prey in further._

"_What Sister, pray tell how we may save ourselves for if it be men who seek to deflower us brutally, how can we rid ourselves of our burdens without a man?", asked Torrance as she clasped Faith's arm tightly._

"_Ye know it be a sin to partake of the flesh before marriage, well what if you took someone to your bed who ye could not marry….someone who was not a man?"_

"_I-I do not understand", said Whitney with a grimace._

"_Oh for….", Faith sighed__, "In the good book, there be nothing written about tasting the love….of a woman"_

"_What!", squeaked Torrance in shock._

"_Shhh", hissed the pirate, "It is not a sin to feel the hunger of a woman, for 'tis only a woman who can release ye from yer bonds of chastity an' save ye from the menace o' men. Was it not Saint Jerome who offered himself unto the Lord in place of his wife, a sacrifice of the flesh to save the torment of another"_

"_No, there was no such…" started the slight minded serving girl._

"_It were in the King James version", Faith bluffed, "But let us get to the point, I am of a holy order so my lips are sealed by my vows so I cannot tell a soul of what we do, I am of a woman's body so I cannot harm thee, ladies…I am willing to sacrifice myself unto you to save ye from the ravages of man"_

"_Sister!", coughed Torrance seeing Faith's head fall 'til her chin thudded 'pon her chest, "I..I…I...but is that not blasphemy? B-but what of Whitney for she too is intact, will she become a target for these scallywags? Nay, I…we cannot possibly shame a..a..nun"_

"_I insist on it, to save such beautiful souls as you two, I would make such a sacrifice…..I would disgrace myself for I can earn penance when I return to my order, but by then…it may be too late for ye two. Have ye heard that Captain Angelus has been seen lurking in these waters? It be curs like he who would kick down your door an' take yer flowers, if he knows ye are untapped__…__.then he may very well come a-knocking. But if ye give them up to a messenger of the Lord like me, then ye both will be guaranteed the finest seats in the kingdom of God", said Faith as she crossed herself and looked once more to the heavens._

"_B-but would it not shame thee?", purred Whitney as she felt the warm hand of Faith caress her thigh before sliding closer to the moistened nook of the maid._

"_Aye, it would shame me most greatly__…..__ but I would ne'er sleep again knowing that I did not do all I could to save you from the advances of pirates and wanted fugitives. Just like Saint Rossum, I am sworn to protect ladies like ye from men such as those who prowl these streets at night. Who knows who might be out there….right now…waiting for ye to blow out yer candles an' feel his…__", said the pirate in a low slung tremor._

"_Oh Sister, will you save us?", begged Torrance with a whimper, "Oh please good Sister, release us from our shackles of chasteness"_

"_Yes Sister Echo, please. I beg of thee to take this…._affliction_ from me", squealed Whitney as her breath clawed in her chest,"B-but are you sure this be not a sin?"_

"_Of course not, we nuns save girls in this way all the time, but we tend to keep it secret. For if ye cannot trust a nun…..then who can you trust?", grinned Faith as she pressed her lips to Torrance who, though pursing for a moment, fell into a warm lull 'til, much to her surprise, the blonde woman's tongue slid free and probed her toothed cavern__._

"_Yes Sister, save me from myself…__please__", whimpered Torrance as her teats became as copper tips on a brazen morn._

"_Then let me glaze my palm with your love", growled Faith as she could see Whitney __seek the mercy of her desire._

"_Oh Sister Echo, you receive your reward in heaven for this"_

"I think I will receive my reward much sooner than that",_ Faith thought to herself as she slid the nightgown off Torrance's shoulder and let it pool by her ankles, the candlelight illuminating each supple curve and the firm swell of her breasts._

_**END FLASHBACK**_

"Though the habit came off in but a flash…I kept the wimple on an' as Torrance felt my fingers push into…", said Faith as her smile drifted off from her sweetened memory.

"Be ye really sure it happened like that?", asked Tara with a sudden chirp.

"Most of it, but I fear rum has rubbed my recall of the exact details, the words may have been different but the result was still the same", grinned the pirate, "So as that dunderpate Whitney slipped from her gown as welI, I told her it would be finer if I watched as she let her Mistress kiss her on…."

"Faith….please stop", said Tara with a slight squawk.

"Why?"

"I wish not to hear of yer conquests of others", said the witch solemnly.

"Sorry, but I ne'er said I was free o' sin, I have sinned greatly…..but regret it little", smirked Faith as the warmth of the fire swept over her skin like an enveloping lovers probe.

"So if ye feel no regret, ye would not mind of I told it to Buffy? Do ye think such a tale would irk her?"

"Hold yer tongue Tara, I will not be put o'er a barrel like this", snapped the pirate of ill repute with little menace to garnish her words.

"I thought that was how ye liked it?", purred Tara recalling the exquisite glories of their term of decadent love where the witch worshipped every inch of Faith's body, from the crescent shaped birthmark on her thigh to the blackening of her eye, with her skilful tongue and impassioned kiss.

"I…'tis not the time nor the place T, but I will not…"

"Oh Buffeeeeee", singsonged Tara as she slid the bodice up Faith's body.

"What?", came the reply from outside where Buffy had been waiting impatiently in the still of the night after the witch had sent her outside so she could attend to the buccaneer.

"Guess what Faith did on…", the woman, whose flesh was despoiled in the most deplorable of ways, said with jovial regard for the soft swathes of Faith's skin which launched out 'tween the stripes of her scars.

"Alright T, damn yer hide", surrendered Faith with a smile for the witch knew well that the Achilles heel of the freebooter was her pride tainted with an underlying arrogance, "Ye really be a cunning bounder, what do ye wish to know?"

"Tell me of yer heart, I know of its rhythm well, does it now play to Buffy's tune?", asked Tara as she stood behind Faith fastening the pearl buttons as she breathed in the intoxication of the pirates freshened scent of dandelions and mango which Tara had added to the heated water. Though it little to dampen the furious burn of powder which seemed infused to Faiths skin forevermore.

For after much rummaging in oaken chests bearing crests of the finest families of Portugal, Tara had drawn forth the only clothes she had not soiled by rodents blood or the spatter of cauldrons brew, for Faith had arrived in naught but a stained and torn sheet so needed attire of suiting. Though the witch wished in her heart that she could once more lie with the feisty brunette, she knew that Faith's heart now sparked with flint to another's powderkeg. And as she smoothed out the swathe of finely stitched cotton across the pirates shapely hind Tara bit her well-sliced lip hoping to summon the silence she damn'd so much.

"I….well….I know that Buffy be a lady, and I be just a rogue o' the waves…I think the words o' Lovelace have muddled my head…to think that someone like she….an' someone like me…", trailed off Faith in sadness' prose as she turned to face the witch who fussed with the sodden tresses hanging down from the glowing face of Faith.

"By Minerva's curse. Ye think so little of yerself, oh find yer balls woman!", scoffed Tara with a wry grin of mockery, "You've broken the wildest of buckin' mares yet this tame young filly fills ye with dread? Were it not ye who sailed into Leamcon in West Cork under the cloak of whimsy an' bearing a Royal seal convincin' the town to hand o'er their riches an' set sail without even drawing blade? Were it not ye who stole away the bride of the Count Palatine o' the Rhine and elector of the Holy Roman Empire, afore she had offered up her the nectar of her burrow?"

"Aye, but she were naught but a weight around my neck. I wish I ne'er agreed to free her from her marriage, if I ever see Sierra again…there will be hell to pay", snorted Faith with disgust at the memory of the harlot who turned most viciously on the Captain in a blaze of blood and gold.

"Stop changing the subject", chided the witch as she fussed with the flowers in her hand as she hovered around the cut-throat.

"Aye, but…"

"But ye be afraid of what this Buffy, this feeble breasted tart, thinks of…"

"T, I owe ye great…but watch yer mouth", grunted Faith in sudden glower.

"Ah, so the defence of Buffy is on yer tongue so readily then?", smirked Tara in victory as she motioned to the hands of Faith twisted into clenched balls of unleashed rage.

"Oh….jus' mind yer luff, T", sighed Faith at how easily the witch could toy with her feelings, not from spites passing fancy but her need to persuade the pirate to unfurl her heart unto someone who could sate its aching needs.

"But ye feel much for her"

"..I…", spluttered Faith but seeing the warmth and comfort in Tara's eyes the pirate could not bring herself to shield herself in falsehoods, "She stirs my passions an'…I truly feel she holds the key t'the shackles I know I carry round my heart, though their links be forged no longer of hate and betrayal, and they be most frail, but I can still feel their weight anchoring my love to ways of old"

"So ye _**do**_ love her?"

"I…I do", breathed Faith as she felt her chains loosen a little more at admitting unto herself the truth which she felt weakened her so, but as the simple words clattered forth with inelegance, she could see the last dying ember of hope flicker and be snuffed from Tara's eye,"I be so sorry T, I ne'er wish you harm or sorrow….. ye know that..but…"

"I know…an' I will ne'er wield disdain unto thee for it", said the witch as she turned her head afraid her tears, once trailing, would not end.

"T…look at me…please", said Faith in tones so soft as if they were whispered by heralds unto mangered infant, she raised Tara's crestfallen chin and smiled with all the love she once held for the witch for seldom could someone breach the fortress which guarded Faith's heart.

"N-nay..I…I am afraid to…"

"Since when did ye fear me?", asked Faith, her tone soaked in wounded pitch.

"Tis not _**ye**_ I fear…but me", she whispered sadly.

"Tara"

"Please Fai…this be hard enough…. I beg of thee to let me…".

Faith leaned in and, as if one final grace to a love she once would have died for, pressed her lips to Tara's. The witch swooned under the moistened touch to her slit lip, the scar ne'er healing despite all her lotions and balms torn from the hides and herbs of the isle, but as her tongue slithered with glee into the mouth of Faith the cut-throat pulled away.

"I'm sorry T…I…I cannot give more unto ye…..I…"

"I know", countered Tara trying not to unveil her splintering soul and the heart which always would sing for Faith.

"T, if things were…"

"Please Faith; bind yerself no longer to yer fears…. I will go tend to Richard….just promise me one thing…to give unto Buffy all she warrants for she be yer…..", broke off the witch for she could not speak of her foretelling without shedding the truths which the pirate had to discover unaided.

"Aye, I swear I will give her all she deserves", said Faith as she once more supped the heady grog feeling its delicious tang reverberate her courage, the mottled hide of the flask cracking through unuse.

"Then go to her", smiled Tara hauling on her scarred face a mask of acceptance, though she would find it hard to keep it from falling soon.

"B-but t-this….this be not for someone like me", stammered Faith nervously as she felt the soft cotton brushing against her thighs and motioned down to her clothes. "They are fit for a Queen, not a pirate"

"_Ye will always be Queen to me_", murmured Tara with regret.

"What did ye say, T?", asked Faith as she held a gilded reflecting glass before her feeling foolish, it had lay buried in one of the oaken chests for Tara wished not to gaze upon her hideous visage for she knew the revulsion such a casting would bear.

"Nothing. Faith, y-ye look divine, every inch the desirable wench. Now go and talk to Buffy"

"B-but me….in such a state o' dress…she will laugh at me", baulked Faith wondering just how much the Mary's Blood scoured her soul.

"Oh damn yer prating, Fai, I swear I be not mocking thee, she will love to see the princess hidden 'neath the pirate", smirked Tara as she gave the cut-throat an encouraging push out into the night air, lit by the dim blaze of lanterns and the spectral glow of fireflies amassing o'er the fetid swamp.

Buffy had been standing outside straining to hear the words being parried around in the hovel feeling both nervous ripple and the fiery prick of jealousy as Tara bathed the naked pirate, but her senses vexed her mightily for though she wished to be free of such feelings, at the same time, she wallowed in the sensual wash of such giddiness. That her heart was, for the first time in her life, able to pound with a beating she secretly adored to feel. As if her soul, once dormant and manacled to the grace and manners her schooling had enshrouded her in, was now shaking free of its irons and soaring on the crest of excited tides. But she knew not whence such tides would carry her.

"Oh…er….avast there B", said Faith awkwardly as she stepped forward from the crumbling mud walls of the hovel and into the soft haze encamped around them.

"Oh…good evening Faith", said Buffy as she span round to answer the greeting, both were ill prepared for the sights before them.

"B.…y-ye look beautiful", said Faith as she clamped her widening pupils on the charmingly seductive form of Buffy who stared back open mouthed, the pirate had paid little heed to the manner of Buffy's attire now but as her bare feet carried her out into the soft shimmer of the moonlight Faith felt not the plight of the venom which her ravaged her so. For in its stead grew a wondrous feeling, entranced by the sight of Buffy in her velvet britches and fluffy lace trimmed shirt.

"A-a-and ye….oh….Miss, you look as fine a sight as e'er I have seen", gasped Buffy as she wallowed in the sight before her as if she had snuffed the zest of a lion.

As Faith stepped out into the lull of air her fingers played awkwardly with the long flowing sides of the simple white gown which hung to her well clipped heels, a simple elegance washed over the freshly cleansed pirate as she blushed well. Her face shone through with her natural beauty as her darkened locks, still dampened from the attentions of Tara, seemed divine as round her crown hung a delicate daisy chain fresh pluck'd and woven by Clem, ever the soft heart he was.

As her legs carried her forth, the high cut bustier synched in just under the magnificent swell of her breasts framed by golden stitching around the décolletage, but Faith stumbled on her weakened legs and only halted from a face full of ash and desiccated remains of wildfowl, by the swift and surprisingly sturdy arms of Buffy.

"Faith, be you alright?", the lady asked trying not to feel indulgence at the rigidly peaked teats pressing near to her own.

"Aye….thankyou, B", said Faith feeling somewhat bashful at the turning of the tables for ne'er would she thought herself as simpering damsel to the svelte and swashbuckling frame of a lady whose beauty matched her own for elegant radiance.

"I…er..would ye care for a drink?", asked Faith holding out the poorly stoppered flask which hung from her shoulder by a thin band of dried cartilage fashioned into leathery strapping.

"Be it more of her evil brewings?", scoffed Buffy as the cork tore free 'tween Faith's teeth and spat to the twigged floor.

"How can ye still think of Tara as havin' evils within her?

"I…sorry…ye be right…but be it a heady drink?", said Buffy not wanting to drag offence into the converse she wished to partake of.

"Nay, 'tis a wine she made…'tis but fruit an' herbs from this isle"

"Oh, that is why Clem left two goblets out here", said Buffy reaching down to raise the two silvered goblets engraved with the names of fallen Moroccan foes.

"I guess so", said Faith wondering just what manner of romantic heart did beat within the breast of the malformed leper.

Buffy stood in awkward silence and let both finely made vessels be filled from the gourd, fashioned from the bladder of a Hungarian privateer who reefed on the isle and drowned in its shallow coves, and pressed its smooth rim to her lips which was flushed from her tint of rouging she had hidden away in the pocket of the weskit, though she knew not why she should steal away such things before leaving The Slayer.

"Gahhh….ii..ahhghh", gasped Buffy as she choked on the virulent brew to Faith's amused smile.

"Good, it is not?"

The drink robbed Buffy of her voice and seared her tastebuds closed as she shuddered with its sturdy gifts.

"N-n-nay…", coughed Buffy,"B-but be it wise for you to sup 'pon such a drink?"

"I've had worse"

"But you need to rest easy"

"Nay, I fear I be rested enough", Faith replied with the lively throes of ridicule.

"Despite what your repute might say, I know you are not immortal, so sit….please", said Buffy ending with a lilting tone as she gestured to a fallen trunk of tree which was levelled well by the axe of Clem.

"W-with ye?"

"Yes….please", said Buffy shyly as she took Faith's hand in steadiness and helped her to sit, though it were an act of simple kindness, to the spying Tara it looked for all the world as if Faith were allowing herself to be as a Lady being tended to by a smartly dressed enchanter for Buffy would only take her seat after Faith had seated.

"So…er… how be..er..Red?"

"Whom?", replied Buffy with quizzically perched brow as she sipped once more on the dizzying brew, soon acclimating to its sense dulling gift.

"Yer maid"

"Her name is Willow"

"That be it! Sorry, names are hard to stick with in my head", smiled the pirate as she fanned out the dress across her legs, believing she would feel less vulnerable if she had nary a stitch on.

"But naming her thusly, for her hair be the hue of spritely flame?"

"Huh? Nay, I call her Red for she blushes much"

"That is true actually", replied Buffy with a small tug of a smile.

"Aye…", said Faith as the triviality of banter irked her.

"But there is something I must tell you…..about Satsu and I"

"Not now B, tell me come morn for I wish to set eyes on her no more"

"Really?"

"Aye, she be…no longer to my liking", said Faith with a sullen shake of the head.

A swift quiet belay their words as they both did drink more of the wine as they felt its rushing effects twindle their spirits 'til Buffy broached the still night air with a grog laden splutter of words.

"Faith, I must….Xander did tell me about Angelus…w-what such a fiend would have done to me if y-you had not intruded", spewed forth Buffy, firing out the thanks which had brewed in her mind these two days past.

"'Twas my fault for placing ye in such company"

"And you have suffered and atoned for it, I forgive you for your trespass Miss, can ye forgive mine?"

"There is naught to forgive B, after all I be '_murdering scum'_ right?", said Faith with a cocked smirk but as soon as she felt her face twist she regretted her snooking.

"Oh….I…I am ashamed to be so callous to ye and say words such as that. Nay, I-I have been most cruel in my judgment, haughty and condescending when I owe you my life…and my virtue. I just wished to say, thankyou Faith…. for saving me"

"It be alright B, Angelus would ne'er….."

"That be not what I mean…I…oh, does it still hurt?", asked Buffy breaking off from her courageous admittance as Faith winced well at the brew filling her gullet.

"Aye, it still burns a little…but I imagine ye have felt little in the way o' pain like this…"

"You think I know not of pain?", countered Buffy with aplomb spinning her head swiftly making the white ribbon pinning her hair back raise and flop down her shoulders.

"Pah, methinks that a sore finger from plucking harpstrings cannot be classed as pain"

"Oh really? I once spent seventeen hours in a tightened whalebone corset and a dozen frothing petticoats on the hottest day of the summer at the Marquis of Downton's gala ball, so do not lecture me on suffering or pain, Miss"

"Oh yes? See this scar?", asked Faith pointing to the jagged rent of flesh from her collarbone, "South China seas, I were but seventeen….or sixteen, I know not exactly…"

"You know not how old you be?", asked Buffy with widened eyes at such a fact could be o'erlooked with such complacency.

"I once asked my mother when I was born, she said "About closing time". I ne'er asked again for when she were washed wi' gin she could cast a hefty clout, but when I were about six I stood my ground and hit her back….the rest o' that story is how I got this break"

Faith pointed to the thin red blemish across her forearm from where the bone had pierced her skin, but a kindly man she knew not who oft lingered in the harbours of Boston had lashed it straight to heal and let her sup a tot o' grog to soothe her childish pains.

Though this were a battle of shared pain Faith was sore determined ne'er one to bested in any sport o' the flesh, especially to a young filly who no doubt spent her Yuletide's sipping tea with the social elite of London rather than guzzling rum and the nectared creams of the loosest scarlet women of Shanghai.

"See this one", said Buffy as she unfastened the pearl button of her flowing cuff and hauled it back like skinning a frothy lace rabbit to show a rounded mark, "Archery, from before I were sent to London, the arrow splintered afore it even left the bow and skewered me well."

"Heh, I be most impressed with ye B, for ye not be as dainty as ye care to make out are ye?"

"What?"

"Ye like people t'think ye be naught but a meek and mild well-behaved bride-to-be….when ye have more balls than most men I e'er met", Faith rushed forth with a smile hidden by the brim of her goblet which she filled once more before topping up Buffy's equally drained vessel.

"S-speaking of….er….codlings….I-I have been meaning to ask you...y-your earrings…b-be they really…."

"Balls? He-he, ye really are a special lass B, nay…they be naught but peach stones"

"Then why do…"

"It all adds to the repute", grinned Faith as she took another swallow of fermented stocky wine not knowing why was shedding her truths with such ease.

"Oh"

"I ne'er meant to pit ye as a dry rankin' fool, B", Faith said.

"Was that crassness an apology for thinking me less than I display?", said Buffy with the glint of a smile.

"Nay…..well….sort of", the pirate said with a glimmer of a blush, "It be just….I have ne'er met anyone like ye, B"

"What do you mean?", asked Buffy as within the fiery eyes of Faith she felt the courage of recent days ebb away so she lifted the chilled silver of the goblet o' grog to her lips and, though her tongue be most sophisticated, its full body and plummy aftertaste agreed well with her palate.

"Well how many bluebloods and haughty nosed cocks o'London would clear up the blood and …er …spillings from the body of a pirate", said Faith with a blush as, during her bathing, Buffy had called out to the hovel all that had transpired since her wounding at Angelus' treachery. It shuddered the freebooter with a great shame to be so lost to her senses that a lady such as Buffy cleansed up her soilings as if Faith were naught but an infant.

"Think little of if Faith"

"But I…I am not in the habit of owing to others…but I do thank ye…honestly", Faith said feeling less than the burn of shame she expected as the two fell into a graceful ease.

"You are most welcome", grinned back Buffy feeling a flurry of joy skimming along her as if a brace of swans were feathering her fair skin.

"B, I-I will ne'er judge ye foul…. but it must be hard for ye to show yer true nature", the pirate, though feeling vulnerable in her simple gown but bolstered by the swill of drink in her gullet.

"What do you mean?", asked Buffy as she felt the soft doe eyes of Faith bore deep into her very soul.

"That ye be really not one to cock a snook to those lower than ye, that behind yer mask ye have a kindly heart and no stern lessons learnt can dampen yer charity"

"Oh, well I…Mr Travers said much the same thing when I oft gave coins to the limbless or blinded men on the streets of Whitechapel, men who fought bravely for the King but cast aside once fallen."

"So why did ye submit to such schooling if it satisfied ye not?", asked the rogue.

"I were an ocean away from my family and I owed it to our good name to obey the laws of polite society, though I wished to be in any other school but his, for he could be most cruel to us, especially those born to warmer climes"

"Why on earth would a loimer like that open a finishing school for girls if he respected them not?"

"I heard it said that he were seeking penance o'er his wayward daughter or something like that, I do not know the whole story but his child must have been most wick'd for he meted out punishments like bitter prayers. H-he was most cruel to me at times…when we spake of pain…I did not speak of his swiftness with the rattan cane, my back and my….er.._derriere_..did feel his strike often"

"That grand scroffler!", grunted Faith in pitching menace, "If e'er I were to meet him or his kin I would feel no qualms about radishing 'im"

"Oh Miss, surely you doth jest with me", Buffy said with shock.

"What? If I e'er caught anyone pilfering from the galley on my ship it be what I did, remove their breeches and get Mr Gunn to hold 'em still as I got a radish and stuffed it up…"

"No!", squealed Buffy in panicked gushing, "I understand your gist….. there be no need to hammer it home"

"Well sometimes we had to….just ask Anya", smirked Faith remembering the squawks of the light fingered wench who spent near a day triced to the bulwarks naked with the green bushy tail hanging limply from her musty nook.

"Faith!", said Buffy with a swift but playful swat to the pirate's tattooed forearm.

"Alright B, let us not dwell on the pains of our bodies, for there is a greater pain…one we both know well"

"What do you mean?"

"The loss of a beloved father", Faith said with everlasting mourning.

"Oh…yes", said Buffy as her face fell sadly.

"I know the bleeding of the soul well, my heart screamed that day in a way I hope ne'er to feel again"

"As did mine"

"To our fathers, may the Lord bless an' keep them", said Faith as she raised her silver goblet to the twinkling north star where Captain Wilkins' spirit did reside.

"Aye, to our fathers", replied Buffy as her vessel clinked well 'gainst the other and felt a swelling of kinship in her breast, for any lingering embers of disdain had been snuffed out by the gentle warmth flowing freely from the beauty in the gown.

"B….I-I must ask thee….did I….did my tongue loose with words when fevered badly?"

"Well…yes, many sentiments you uttered….some revolving around doing much harm to the good Doctor…and someone by the name of Mr Fox?", Buffy said as she could not help the smirk saunter on her face.

"Oh…right…well I recall none of it"', interrupted the pirate with a jaunty tilt to her lolling head.

"_**None**_ of it?"

"Nay, I-I can recall the arrow…and the cabin…..and pain….the rest be a blur"

"Oh", replied Buffy as her shoulders slumped, though at the time she felt billowed with romantic etchings, it seemed they were merely notions tossed forth 'pon a torrent of opiates.

"What be wrong B? Did I say something to offend ye when I were muddled with venom?"

"No, not as such….but…", said Buffy as she drained her goblet of grog for her courage needed fortifying, "But you said something o-o-of romance. Tell me…b-be it true? D-do you really feel …as if you…I mean…y-your heart…."

"B…ye doth babble like yer maid….but…..I was near death, closer than I have been in a long time. I know no angels will welcome me but if I would be most vexed if I face death again without telling ye… my heart sings for ye Buffy, but I know not why"

"I-I know you be well acquainted with the fervoured delights of love, b-be your heart swathed in such …f-f-for me?"

Faith's hand trembled with a timidity she had seldom felt since womanhood took her, she put it down to the last vestiges of poison still marching within her blood, as she placed her hand on top of Buffy's, and when the Lady did not wrench it free and land a feisty slap 'pon the pirates cheek, Faith smiled as she felt a fluttering in her womb she had ne'er known. Their fingers entwined, sitting in each other's as if moulded by Creation, two halves of a jagged whole finally finding their sought after opposite. With Countess Chase there was an unbridled lust, with Meredith, Harmony and countless other harlots there was need, but with Buffy, Faith felt most blessed just to sit idle 'neath a canvas of stars and hold hands with such a rare treasure as Buffy

"I cannot lie…I feel deeply for thee…and wish for more than the brief of glances, but I feel not merely the burn of lust nor the tears of desire for thee, I have found myself daydreaming of such simplicities, to walk 'neath the arc of an orchard with ye by my side, to ride at the gallop with ye on my saddle, I have tried to rid my mind of such thoughts, I have tried not to burden myself with such thoughts knowing that ye will ne'er return them…"

"I…I…I ne'er said that", said Buffy sheepishly.

"So Tara was right…. ye do feel...f-for me?"

"I..do _**feel**_…but I cannot define what it be"

"B….if ye were to tell me such a notion can be sown in yer heart and I could indeed reap Aphrodite's harvest….if ye gave me a chance I would do all I could to prove myself to thee, that I can be more than a cut-throat bathed in blood, powder and damnation. P-please B, I am not used to asking any boon of anyone, but if ye let me….I can be more to ye than any plumped up popinjay or witless spadroon ye might find in London. Please B, tell me the truth, if I am asking nonsense then tell me now….for if my heart does simmer solo…tell me, then I shalt return ye to New Swaffham"

"R-really?", asked Buffy as here she was being offered her freedom. 'Twas her choice to stay for a while longer with the hordes of pirates or be returned to the dour destiny of betrothal to a man she knew not. But such an answer would not readily spring to her tongue.

"Aye. No ransom, no reward…..for a butterfly should not be caged"

"But…h-how you feel for me…..do ye speak with truth? How do I know that one who uses falsehoods so easily could now speak unto me without deceit?"

"_When love begins to sicken and decay. Is useth an enforced ceremony….."_

"…_there are no tricks in plain and simple Faith_", finished off Buffy, less shocked now that the demon o' the waters, as she was often known in polite circles of Greenwich, could readily quote the Bard, her choice of phrases barely veiled its meaning.

"Aye, Caesar be one of my fathers favoured….", broke off the freebooter as she and Buffy felt the warm skin of each other as on the rolling barkless perch they slithered together, a fine warming of grog stirring their sultry passions.

"But I fear I do not belong at sea", said Buffy sadly, "Though the toss of the tides does not make me pale in fear….to live 'pon a ship? I-I could ne'er betray my want thusly, do you e'er tire of being a nomad of the waves?"

"Nay, the sea is in my blood….'twould kill me more than any noose to spend my days as a lubber"

"But what if you had a home to return to? A family and not a crew?"

"My crew _**is**_ my family", snorted Faith with determined vim.

"But you could give Dawn a real life, to see her raise in safety and joy rather than shot and sword"

"I dare not think of such things as only a King's pardon would grant me such freedoms and ne'er will I bow afore a lily livered glutton like he, for no man shall hold the keys to my freedom"

"And your crew?"

"Every manjack o'them would rather perish at sea an' sniff the bouquet of hell's great wrath rather than curtsy 'neath a truce given by the King, for he would use us as puppets to dance in the gibbets of his palace afore granting us any such leniency. I know for a fact that my men would ne'er want to return to the lives of old, I be sure than Andrew would not wish to return to his life as a resurrection man"

"A what?"

"A grave robber….he dug up bodies to sell t'the Doctors for their wick'd indulgences"

"Oh my"

"An' I cannot see anyone o' my crew wanting to become a bum brusher or a fartcatcher"

"Huh?"

"Bless me skivvies B, how ye could be so sheltered A bum brusher be a wizened teacher, a fartcatcher be a footman, do ye really not listen to the lingo of our times?"

"I admit I have led a sheltered life….but it still be _**my**_ life"

"Aye, an' ye should live it as _**ye**_ see fit…an' not fear yer hearts true wish. But as I said, if ye really want to return to yer old life...I will sail ye to New Swaffham", said Faith hoping that Buffy's answer would not be the one to wrench her hear in twain,"But I will not force yer hand in such a decision, ye may return to that life ye had, or stay w-with me. 'Tis yer choice for ye were always free…on board my ship ye were…"

"Hold…those words", Buffy gasped greatly as her breath left her body like a note being blown from a flute, "You _**do**_ remember what you said!"

"I..oh….I…", said Faith as her cheeks pinkened and, for the first time in her life, she wished for a dainty fan in her hand to shield her flushing.

"Do I make thee blush, Miss", smirked Buffy as she nudged her shoulder into the flushed face buccaneer.

"N-nay…I….I think the wine has swirled my head is all", came the reply soaked in lies.

"Faith, can I crave a boon from ye?", said Buffy after a minute of contented silence as the two women of wildly differing pasts wallowed in the sweet harmony they had cloaked themselves with.

"Aye..o-course…_hic_.."

"Though the night be silent, and the place uncouth….there be something which has plagued my mind since first we met…though it were….nay, tis foolish"

"Nay B, ask away", encouraged Faith as she watched Buffy get to her dusty heels and pace in quandary's footpads.

"I…that night…when we danced…I cannot wrench free from that memory…it were like you had bewitched me…and I befouled the moment with hastily drawn judgment of thee. I-I know thee greater now, though I know not if it be the wine talking, but…could I…may we try… once more?"

"Try what?"

"I…I would like to…_hic_… dance with thee"

"Dance?"

"Yes"

"Here?"

"Yes"

"W-with me?"

"Yes…please, Faith. I would like to", said Buffy holding out her hand in chivalry as Faith, casting herself from her embittered shell of vicious nature, simply nodded and slid her hand into Buffy's.

"Aye…I-I would too", said Faith as a shyness swept through her, but even though she felt wronged to take the maidens role, she found it, in this treasured moment, hard not to succumb to the enchantment radiating from the well-dressed woman before her who helped the still weakened pirate to her feet.

"Then Miss…may I have this dance?", asked Buffy in mock grandiosity with a hefty yet elegant bow as her spirit was bolstered well by the hearty totting of drink swirling her misgivings away.

"Aye Miss….ye may", replied Faith who, caught within the tender throes of the gesture, placed one hand to the flows of her dress and bobbed a delicate yet clumsy curtsy.

As Buffy slipped her hands around Faith they swayed gently in the bathing of the moon, the only tune was the far off lapping of waves on the beach and the chirp of crickets fleeing serpent tongued predators.

"B….how did we end up here?"

"On a ship…_hic_", said Buffy as she felt the sway of drink in her as she lead the dance holding Faith's hand high as if she had donned a suit of chivalry and were stretching out its wrinkled knap.

"That be not what I mean", chuckled Faith as the daisy chain in her hair slipped down her dampened locks a little more.

"Then what did..._hic_…Miss, I must tell thee…_hic_..you look lovely in that dress, it suiteth you most gaily"

"Please do not mock me, B"

"Nay, I do not"

"And how do I know that?", asked Faith as her mind spun with drink and the feel of the lady in whose arms she swayed in happy stead.

"For I am a lady….and a lady ne'er tells lies….._hic…_"

"So a lady like ye would only tell me the truth?", said Faith with honeyed tones.

"Yes"

"Tell then me m'Lady, do ye really wish to marry that ferrying smarmer Mr Finn?"

"I….but my family…I wish….oh Faith, have you ever felt trapped? Unable to wrench free from the ties than bind", said Buffy with a mighty sigh.

"Aye, often"

"Then ye know the feeling that the ways of the world are beyond your control?"

"Nay, if ye will it so…ye can live in whatever manner ye wish. I have been trapped more times than I care to admit, whether in gaol, at the end of a musket….or in sand"

"Sand?", said Buffy with a slight shiver feeling the cold ripple her skin well.

"Aye, me and Ken were buried up to our necks in the sand…..the tide were comin' in too….the Dupont de Leguillies got to…

"However did you escape from such a….oh, the Dupont? I have heard tell of him, this were in the Amazon right?"

"Huh? How did ye come to know of that?"

"While ye were…er…suffering with the poison Oz told us the story but he ne'er finished, will ye end it for me?"

"'Tis a long tale, B"

"'Tis a long night….F", smiled Buffy as she felt the slight tug on her hand as Faith lead them back into the hovel to find comfort and warmth by the blazing hearth.

_**The next morning aboard The Slayer**_

"Andrew….will ye just put it down", said Spike with arms raised in slight surrender as the effete man of tender persuasions pounded the spiked mallet 'pon the great slab of muttonbird, fresh caught by the sly wiles of Lorne when he and Amy went for fresh water at dawn's first glow.

"Why? You think I will hurt you with it….let me tell you something of hurt", growled the galleysman as he vented his pain and anger in squelching thuds spitting forth the blood and fat of the meat as he fought to keep his tears as shallow, "Hurt is when you bear your secrets to a-another and they cast you away. Hurt is when you wait in silence as love scours your soul, and when you do unfurl its bitter flag it is despoiled as if naught. Hurt is…"

"I get it Andrew, I do"

"Really?", snorted the blonde haired man back as he threw down the mallet dripping with sinew and span his back to Spike.

"Aye, I do. Let me speak with leavened spirit, I-I was wrong….I used ye an' cast ye off as if you meant nothing"

"I _**do**_ mean nothing to you, you bandy quiller", spat Andrew with insults he ne'er thought the one who dwelled within his heart would find target with.

"I deserve that…but please….Drew", said Spike with softer tones using the pet name he had conjured for the young man of discrete pleasures, "I know I hurt ye..badly. B-but this….since that night, as much as I try, I cannot forget yer tenderness, the feel o' yer lips…the plumping of yer manhood which, I must say, would put a rutting mule t'shame"

"Y-you mean…"

"Aye, I were stretched most sore for a day…..ye have naught to be ashamed of there", whispered Spike as he took a chance and slid his hands o'er Andrew's slight shoulders, though the young potboiler wished to shrug the grasp away, he shivered at the firm and muscular touch.

"So….hold, I see what you be doing. You just be filled with lust and wish to use me again"

"Nay, I do not"

"Then tell me _**William**_, what do you wish?", he said turning into Spike's gaze which fractured upon seeing the reddening eyes of Andrew which swirled with anguish which the Englishman sowed deep.

"I-I wish to make amends…I treated ye most foul an' I-I apologise, if I could take it back I would…..but I 'ave fought these stirrings in me codlings fer so long…..I felt wronged to feel such a way…..but seein' how the Cap'n near passed away", said Spike with a quivering lip as he cast his eyes down sadly, "It made me realise…there be little time to find yer heart in this world….t'feel the truths which broil yer soul….if she could find true love's kiss an'…."

"Spike, I wish not to hear you parley with words all day for I have funnel cake which be kicking my hind", whined Andrew as he wiped his floured hands on the leather apron and stared on at the glowing stove door hoping for a rising of his baked goods for he knew of Faith's fondness for such a treat and wished to welcome her home with such an offering.

"Drew….I…I feel greatly for ye…an' I wish not to be ashamed of it…if ye would let me…I wish to lie with ye again.."

"I see, an' that is all ye wish me for? To purge your loins of its burden?", scoffed Andrew in the echo of hurt.

"Nay….I were fuddled wi' drink the other night…I-I wish to do right by ye…if ye would let me, I-I-I would like to promenade… w-with ye"

"You heard that from Faith did you not?"

"Aye, I admit that….but she were not wrong in her notions….please Drew…let me right my wrongs an'..

"B-but what when ye tire of me and search for the touch of some plume fed dandy with no chin and lesser morals"

"Drew…please,,,", said Spike stroking a rough finger over the cheek of the galleysman who squirmed under the gentle touches he had prayed unto gods he believed to be mocking.

"_**If**_ I were to forgive you…I wish not to hide away…to be cowered in shadows for chaste and unseen kiss…"

"What do ye wish me to do?", replied Spike with a pleading quality.

"Be not ashamed o' me….or yourself", said Andrew quietly fearing their love would forever be shrouded in secrecy as if there was indecency abound.

"Then I will prove myself to thee", said Spike as he grabbed Andrew by the small hand and with the billowing of courage he pulled him out the galley.

"Spike….my funnel cake!", whined Andrew but he was swept along in the insistent hauling 'til the bright glare of the morning bore down on his pasty face.

"Avast ye scoundrels, I wish t'speak wi' ye", yelled Spike as the crew stopped in their coiling of rope, slipping down from the rigging and drying the tompions for the muskets.

"Vot be wrong Spike, ye have not fallen foul o' the durchfall?", asked Lorne in his gruff Bavarian tongue

"Nay, not this time….I-I need t'tell ye o' something grand…me and Drew….we be together", said Spike as he held up his calloused hand holding Andrews though the galleysman blushed hard and shrunk a little under the stares from his crewmates, "An' if any of ye wish to say something' about it…then tells it to my face", finished Spike with a bluster of threat.

"I do….I have somethin' t'say to ye", said Amy stepping up from scrubbing the holystone cross the timbered deck and crossed to stand but inches from his face with the hint of objection tweaking her cheek as her knuckles lay to rest on her hips.

"An' what be that?", growled Spike in reply ready to unleash a fist in defence of his new found love.

"I merely wish to say…about bloody time", laughed the wench as she punched him lovingly on the shoulder.

"Wait…y-ye knew how Drew felt….for me..?", said Spike with shocked blush.

"Do ye think we all blind as ol' strumpets? O' course we all knew, just surprised it took ye this long, ye daftie", smirked Warren as he came up and patted Andrew on the back for manys the time the galleysman had wept on the shoulder of the thumbless picker o' pockets.

A clapping of hands rang out from the spanker gaff to the foc's'le as the scurvy knaves, as one seething mass of resplendent joy, gave their blessing well. Their lungs spiralling forth a hearty cheer as Spike pulled Andrew towards him and pressed his mangy lips to the smaller mans, a swimming of heads did follow as the freshly coupled buccaneers fell deeper into the kiss. Andrew's floury hand reached up and slid round the barrel neck of Spike whose own well tattooed arms wrapped round the slight frame of his hearts wish.

"I ne'er thought I would see the day when you would feel as I",said Andrew as thrice more he lay tender pecks of kiss on the lips of Spike whose smile broke into a wide split of gleaming pride and tender affection.

"Nor did I…but after the hellmouth….an' the near demise o' the skipper….I could deny my heart no more…I…I.."

"You what, honey?", asked Andrew as he swayed in the firm arms of Spike which seemed rooted round his body.

"I..", Spike supped a warm lung of salted air to stout his notion, "I…love ye, Drew"

As Andrew's legs near buckled in want for he watched as, once Spike's words slipped free, a great shameful weight had been lifted from the Englishman's tattered soul and breathed heavy but joyful.

"I be….oh Spikey, I ne'er dreamed such things would happen….I have _**always**_ loved thee…e'er since Iron Sally Harvey near gutted you with the…."

"Oh, do not remind me", said Spike recalling the long forgotten mistake with the buxom wench whose oxen like body could strike fear into the codlings of many the brave mariner.

As their words slithered free from pursed and gleeful lips they noticed not the crew return to the their duties, Marcie clambering once more up the rigging splicing new hempen line to the torn ropes as Warren handed slatted timber to Lorne who worked a mortice with vigour.

"Ye were sayin'?", said Kennedy as she and Willow walked hand in hand aft to the tafferels and resumed their converse broken by the announcement of Spike.

"Huh…oh yes, I think Miss Buffy still grieves for her father", nodded the maid with slight crooking of her brow as though she had little to qualm, the sight of two children of Adam engaged in tenderness filled her with confusion and, much her shame, a trace of revulsion.

"Aye, I can understand that but somethin' still sits not right. Her father were slain by Phillippe's rogues off the coast o' Buiegga, but t'do that they would have to slope round Ider's Cove an' I know for a fact that Cap'n Orriega would ne'er attack from the port side", said the pirate with a brow crooked in musing.

"But the man who survived swore it be he"

"Aye, but it makes little sense for it would just give reason for the Royal Navy to encroach on _**our**_ waters an' the Spanish would have to meet 'em full on. I cannot see why a privateer such as he would attack a ship with so little value so far from his stretch o' comfort. There be somethin' far darker here m'Lady, trust my word on this"

"Ken, can we not speak of such foulness", sighed Willow trying to savour their moment for the flame haired temptress feared for their future, for she knew she would have to confess all to her Mistress. One day she would have to step foot back in society, but her heart weighed heavy knowing that Kennedy could ne'er afford such simple actions.

"But there be much…."

"Look, look, 'tis Miss Buffy!", squealed the maid as she spied the party appear on the shore fresh from the rigours of loping vine and slovenly bough.

Faith's bare feet felt the swash of sand 'tween her bare feet and pulled her hand from Buffy's to wave in a mighty arc to the ship as one by one her crew appeared at the lanyards to cheer her great huzzah, a broad smile fired back as she watched Mr Gunn lower the longboat to the calm waters.

Their revelry had been short lived the previous night for as soon as their dance had finished and sought refuge by the fire inside the dim hovel both Faith and Buffy, once the elaborate tale had spun fully, slumbered well by dint of rum's tiresome wake. At the rising of dawn Buffy stirred and shifted lazily, content in the warmth she felt 'neath the blanket draped o'er them by Tara during the night, though she felt great shock once her senses had returned to her, Buffy felt like not tearing free of the embrace. Faith's arms were wrapped in comfort around her as the pirate slept on, the blonde trying not to giggle at each snore rattling from the cut-throats body.

But once the crying of Richard rang out the pirate snapped from her rest for he seemed not to find comfort 'til he was in the arms of Faith who cooed softly over the child who nestled gently 'pon her chest. But with the stretching of the hours the pirate and the lady forced themselves from the silent escape they had found and trudged back through the feculent swirls of swamp heading back to the ship anchored in the bay.

"Clem, it be good to see ye once more", said Faith as she handed young Richard back from her other arm and kissed the slumbering infant on his innocent crown and wished away a tear of regret. "Ye take good care of 'im"

"Of course, fare thee well my…'til next time Faith", said Clem as he hugged her briefly cursing himself for not being to reveal the feeling of his heart.

"T…I cannot begin to thank ye for…"

"Hold, Faith. Yer words need not be said", smiled the witch as she felt the pirates arms crunch well into her sored bones.

"Aye", said the pirate, still clad in the simple gown, as she broke the tender embrace and, as by parting gesture, ran a single finger along Tara's jawline leaving the witch fighting back her tears once more.

"Miss Buffy, please take care o' Faith", said Clem warmly, "It's about someone did"

"Hoi", scoffed Faith as the party chuckled lightly.

"Buffy…a word if I may", said Tara as she took Buffy to one side whilst Faith stroked the soft arm of the slumbering Richard offering him health and joy.

"Tara, I owe you an apology. I thought you most twisted but I know now…"

"It matters little", said the witch with a smile as she drew Buffy into a fierce embrace.

"Fare thee well, Ta…", but before she could finish her words, the witch slithered hushed words through the remainder of her browned and crack'd teeth.

"I must let ye know this….if _**e'er**_ ye hurt Faith….if _**e'er**_ you cause her heart to wound…I shall curse thee most greatly, an' though my life be forfeit, I would leave this isle and hunt ye down. If e'er you betray Faith in any way….I will slice the skin from yer body….inch by damnable inch….and fry it before yer very eyes afore I feed it to ye. Do ye understand me?", whispered the witch into Buffy's ear punctuating her protective sentiment with a sharp dig of her torn nails.

"I…I….I understand ye Miss", said Buffy in shock as she was released from the embrace.

"Good", said Tara as she squinted her eye until it scoured Buffy with its intent.

"'Til we meet again….wherever it may be", said Faith as she kissed Richard's crown one last time before helping Buffy into the longboat.

"Take care of her", said Tara with a faraway look dancing in her eye.

"I will", said both Buffy and Faith in unison before blushing at the shared sentiment.

"Cap'n, ye be righted", called Mr Gunn as the prow of the longboat crunched into the sand as he leapt into the soft wash of the tide which lapped softly at the beach.

"Aye, thanks to Tara", she smiled back as she accepted his hand in great friendship.

"But I'm afraid we must alight, the tide is turning skipper and unless ye wish to reef we should…", said the Bo'sun nodding towards The Slayer which was laying low in the waters.

"Aye, let us sail. T, Clem…I wish ye well", said Faith as she stepped into the longboat sitting aft with Buffy who had already stepped into the shallow vessel.

"Ye too", called back Clem as he slipped one arm round Tara's shoulders which lay haunched and wracked with unshed sorrows.

"B? What be wrong?", asked Faith as Mr Gunn rowed with might.

"I…oh nothing…just sad to say goodbye to Richard", said the Lady as the longboat distanced swiftly gliding o'er the meek waves

"He hath captured yer heart already? Aye, he does that with all", replied Faith as she waved goodbye to the youngling who was fast fading from view. The gurgling baby stirred in Clem's arms as they waved one last goodbye before slipping back into the thick impenetrable jungle.

"Clem, do ye really think we will lay eyes on Faith again?", asked the witch as her mud soaked feet carried her away from the one woman who truly loved her, the passing of time had stolen her joy but not her memories. For once free of the sound of the tides she could cry her pain away in solitude, dulling her senses with her brewed remedies.

"I know not, I hope so…but with each joy of coming leaves us both with the heartache of her leaving", replied the kindly man who held the baby tight as they ducked 'neath the swoop of angled branch and spindly monkey.

"I know", she said as she slipped her arms into the crook of his flapping skin, "But do ye e'er feel the burn of guilt o'er the untruths we spin?"

"Aye, but 'tis the way it must be. We made a vow and we must honour it, though it be a foul web of lies we weave"

"But do ye not think Faith deserves to know of …?"

"Nay, she must ne'er know who I was an' how my heart breaks seeing her live this life…. ne'er will she know of my truth", said Clem sadly as he clutched his golden ring hanging round his neck from a thin stretch of taut leather.

"Aye, I understand. But do ye feel it a cruelty to Richard to tell him such deceits too?", said Tara as they stepped into the mire of the swamp.

"Nay", said Clem as he pressed his sore and cracking lips to the stirring baby, "He, like Faith, is better off not knowing the truth"

As the leper, the witch and the baby slithered into the festering waters they could no longer hear the encroach of the waves nor the jovial ringing aboard the ship which echoed round the crooked rock cliffs as the longboat reached The Slayer as Faith, with a jaunty step, stepped up on the deck. She bathed in their warm smiles but 'twas offset by their lofty brows and murmurs.

"Aye, I am wearing a dress…..but I had no choice, for none o' ye praters thought to take me clothes did ya? Ye took me ashore and left me naked…. with a lusty witch!", scoffed Faith but the merry lilt of her voice stole its menace leaving no victim amongst her crew.

"Oh…I ne'er thought. Sorry", said Xander as he ruffled his wiry mutton chops.

"Hold…be that funnel cake I smell?", asked the Captain as she supped the sweet smell of freedom and baked treats.

"Indeed it be, Cap'n", smiled back Andrew as he clenched tight to Spike's scabbed fingers.

"It be...oooffff", Faith started but was cut off by the barrelling form of Dawn who slammed into her middle and near knocked her back into the briny. Though Dawn could utter no words there was little need for them as she hugged Faith so tightly her forearms would carry the impression of Faith's ribs for hours to come.

"It be alright Dawnie, I will ne'er leave ye again…I swear it", said Faith with softened tone as she cared not what any thought of her for Dawn had been her reason to breathe on many a woeful morn, she pressed her lips to her sisters head and held her tight.

Dawn pointed to Buffy and then ran a finger across her mouth making pouting sounds as she spake in silence in ways that only Faith could decipher.

"Really? Xander said it was true love's kiss? B, is it true?", asked Faith in wide eyed surprise for such a detail had been left out from her late night talk with Buffy.

"Well…I…er…", Buffy began warily but before she could finish any real word Dawn slammed an equally fierce hug into the lady who, though shocked and possessor of aching noggin, hugged her back warmly for Dawn was easily creating a recess in her heart where the tongueless girl's spirit would nestle always.

"Miss Buffy, be you alright?", squawked Willow as she rushed cross the deck and scoped her into equally fierce hug moments after Dawn had released her buckling arms.

"Yes Will, my head be a little sore…"

"Oh Miss, what did that foul witch do unto you?", said the maid as she brushed the flakes of ash and dried moss from the shirt of Buffy who now felt discomfort at the attentions lavished on her as her maid had always done all her days, as if she had evolved from needing such fussing in the mere passing of days.

"What? Nay Will, she actually had been greatly misjudged for she is of a kind, yet somewhat barbaric nature"

"Then why does your head hurt so", asked Willow holding her Mistress' hands, without permission and in the sight of the general populace, but the redhead herself had felt an awakening herself these recent days and so felt little in the way of reluctance.

"I..I did something last night…with Faith….I ne'er thought it would feel so good and…."

"Miss Buffy!", shrieked her hand maiden, "D-d-did you l-l-lay with her?"

"What? Nay, of course not. I..I became a drunken woman", said Buffy turning her head watching as Faith revelled in the warm welcome of her crew, offering warmer embrace than usual to Andrew and a beaming Spike.

"Oh Miss, that be even worse!", chided Willow as if Buffy were but a scoundrelled child caught stealing away from Sunday School.

"How is that worse?", replied Buffy with a crook of the lip.

"I…I..I know not but if she could entice you into such iniquity then...I-I know what I be saying Miss Buffy it just be…", coughed Willow as her feudal nature was a clasping figure which still owned her soul, though its talons had been severing as of late.

"Oh my sweet Willow, she did not force her hand at all, I supped from my own accord"

"Oh my Lord, Miss Buffy…what do…"

"Listen to me Will, there is something we must speak of…..Faith offered me something"

"Buffy! She..d-did not yield h-h-her intimacies unto thee and.."

"No! Darn it Will"

"Buffy! I ne'er heard you use such language before!", said the maid in a panic, paying no heed for the first in her entire life she referred to her Mistress without using the appropriate prefix of 'Miss' and somehow felt not wronged to speak it.

"Sorry, I think mayhaps the influence of these rogues be slipping into my mind, but pray hold silent for a moment. Faith offered us safe passage to New Swaffham….if we should choose it"

"You mean?"

"Yes, we could sail and be at port within three days. What say ye Will? Do you wish to make for hearth and home and…..and ne'er see this ship nor its crew again?"

"Never?", said Willow in shock, se span her head to see her Kennedy in a fitting embrace with her Captain and witnessed the relief and joy cocoon them both.

"Yes….w-what do you think?", said Buffy who, but days ago would have agreed most readily to such an offer but now, in the passing of few moons, felt wrenched 'tween the comfort of her mother's love and the sparkling excitement she found dwelling in Faith's eyes each time they met her own. Times such as now for as Buffy stared across the barrels and coils of rope she felt warmed by the catching of Faith's sultry eye, a stare fast stolen from her by the snooking of a revived whore.

"Cap'n, I demand satisfaction with this lady. Ye know law good so…", sneered the well plundered concubine as she saw the closeness flowing 'tween the eyes of Buffy and the pirate Queen.

"Well Satsu….I heard what happened so…Xan, give it t'me", said Faith holding her hand out to the Cox'n.

"Aye, here ye go Cap'n", he said with a grin.

"Now Satsu….if ye…what the hell?", said Faith as she thrust the weapon out in front of her but instead of her palm feeling the glory of the hilt of her sword, in her hand was the gentle curve of the handle of a parasol. She span round to see Xander and Kennedy bellowing their mirth well, not caring that the Captain's revenge would be equally humbling.

"Oh m'Lady, would ye care t'promenade with me?", laughed Kennedy with a mocking curtsy and a high pitched voice.

"Oh mayhaps m'Lady would like some tea before church", echoed Xander with an equally mocking bow as he doffed his rounded brim.

"Xan…Ken….ye….dammit", huffed back the Captain, but when she saw Buffy hold her hand over her mouth to disguise her chuckles, Faith stole away to her cabin in an embarrassed huff tossing the lace edged parasol o'er the side of the ship.

"Hoi, that were mine", called Amy watching the lilac silk be cast into the waves.

"Shut up Amy", snorted back Faith as she slammed her cabin door.

"W-will she be alright, Sir?", asked Willow nervously to Spike.

"Aye, she just needs t'feel the tilt o' waves 'neath her an' she will be righted once more", he grinned at the sly form of Andrew who tousled his hair in the morning light which glistened off his skin making Spike smile.

But in the passing of mere minutes Faith emerged from her cabin with a determined strut, her tightened pantaloons caressing her skin well and bleeding into her half boots, her breasts barely captured by the plunging décolletage of her ruffled edged ivory shirt, underpinned by the swash of her black leathered weskit. Faith cocked her tricorn to a playful angle atop her darkened tresses which blew out fairly in the topering winds, and stepped up to her smirking Cox'n as the notched scabbard of her father's sword tapping her thigh well.

"Ye know Xan, if it were anyone but ye…", said Faith grabbing him tightly in an embrace as he could feel the press of her two flintlocks slid into her wide buckled belt.

"I know….that be why I made sure we have no radishes left", grinned back the one eyed man.

"I be sure I could find a potato though", she winked back as she stepped from the hug and accepted the touching o' the brim from her crew, all most relieved that their leader unto death was near healed. Faith stepped across the well-scrubbed deck as if each cludding footstep breathed more life into her, as if she and The Slayer were bound as one entity. Her march halted on the aft spanker as she fell within the glistening ivory flash of Buffy's smile.

"Is everything alright with ye, Faith?", asked Buffy as she accepted the cut-throats hand into hers and felt their fingers entwine once more.

"Aye…it all be well now", grinned the pirate as she felt the soft sway of the hull and the strain of the anchor as if it were a beast begging to be unleashed 'pon the seas once more.

"Yer orders Cap'n?", asked Xander as his eye twinkled with thankful glee.

"Mr Harris….bring me that damn'd horizon", Faith jollied back as, without thinking, her hand squeezed Buffy's who too clenched her fingers tighter round the scarred and calloused digits.

"Aye, aye, Cap'n", replied the one eyed man, "Look spry men. Spike, take the helm, men, haul anchor an' loose the canvas"

Faith had nary seen a more majestic sight as the crimson sail filled with a salty fair breeze, swelling to the boom of the forepeak mirroring the swelling of her own heart. The capstan turned slowly and the great iron anchor hauled in with a chattering rattle of metal o'er wood, the hull buoyed with promise and The Slayer raised its moorings sailing sluggishly along the narrow channel to take them into the brim of the frothing tides which called them like sirens song. The Slayer raised 'pon the first great swell and Faith finally felt like her old self, but fused with a new yearning 'pon which was centered a blonde lady who grinned as she felt the swing of the skillet take them past the last crag of jagged rocks and into the bluster of the ocean.

"Cap'n, ship off the starb'd bow!", called Marcie tearing asunder their revelry but before Faith could even step forth another, more damnable cry, did fly from the gills of Amy.

"_**Two**_ ships off the portside, Cap'n! Both bearing the flag o'the Royal Navy!"

"Christ Jesu, we be discovered!", yelled Kennedy as she pulled Willow towards her in a sudden need to shelter the maid.

As The Slayer rolled slowly from the safety of the rock enshrined harbour Faith could feel the thin hairs on her neck prickle as she could see the three Naval warships awaiting them but five hundred yards away and closing in fast. It were a trap with no escape save for if Faith could snare a swift tide, such was the blessing of the reefs off Tabula Rasa, and fight a path 'tween two of the warships who ran their lofty colours with a superior glee.

"Spike, turn hard t'starboard…..now!", yelled Faith as she watched the dread unveil 'pon the faces of her crew who all stared out to the ships surrounding them with gun ports drawn and smouldering fuses in the hands of the countless mariners of the Royal navy poised by their twenty pounders awaiting the orders of their Captain's.

"I…I be tryin' Faith…..the wheel is rightly buggered", he grimaced back as he strained mightily to wrench the wheel round.

"Out the way", she snapped loosing her grip from Buffy as the Captain took the helm herself but even in her angered push of the great wheel it would move no more than an inch.

"Faith!", cried Lorne, "Ze rudder be disabled, ve cannot steer!"

"Pray tell, what skulduggery is this?", shouted the Captain with venom seeping from her bitter sounds as the disabled vessel creeped closer to the range of the Navy's cannon.

"Sabotage!", cried forth Xander as he pulled out his trusted scimitar and loaded pistol ready for them to speak their steely tones, with only the blood of many a foe to sate their desires.

"Damn t'hell the swine!", growled Mr Gunn as he stepped towards Johnathan with a sudden mistrust on his mind.

"There be time for the treacherous dog to be unearthed later. Ken, break out the magazines, all hands t'the guns, Mr Gunn bring out the long nines, sword an' shot for each man!", cried Faith as she unsheathed her father's sword and pressed her lips to the thin sliver of steel, silently praying that this would not be the last time she would feel its ornate hilt in her calloused grasp. For, as she stared to the terrified look of Buffy, Faith now had something greater than her own life to lose.

The ship erupted into panicked shouts and fevered activity, Mr Gunn taking command of the long barrelled nine pounder and rubbing his hands with blackened powder, Marcie loosing pails across the tinder dry decks as Warren and Andrew scrubbed them well with the sea water to guard 'gainst the wind blowing loose powder from the guns and sparking the timbers.

Faith stared out at the trio of warships and knew that her seamanship now meant for naught for this was not a fight she could outrun, that this were not just a battle….. but the end of time for many.

The HMS Initiative, HMS Jericho and the Casa De Bonecas, all bedecked with the King's colours flying regally, brimmed with fiery gusto as they saw their prey slide helplessly into range.

Their one hundred and thirty cannon to The Slayer's fifty.

Three Men-O-War pitted 'gainst a Lady of damnation.

Near three hundred well-trained soldiers and marines facing a pitiful crew of buccaneers trapped 'pon a rudderless ship.

Faith's eyes burned as she looked towards the sky and for the first time in manys the moon she uttered unto the Lord a silent prayer of mercy.

Not for herself for she knew herself to be most damn'd.

Her prayer…..was for Buffy.

As for the first time in her life Faith felt true fear as she peered at the lead ship, the HMS Initiative, who bore down on The Slayer with merciless drive.

"Sir, I can see Miss Summers on the foredeck", said Mr Snyder glancing through the spyglass, a gangly limbed boy soldier next to him flexing the flags in his arms well as he semaphored the order to the other ships only to fire after the HMS Initiative had unleashed its first broadside, "Shall I send word to lower the longboats under a flag of truce. Their surrender should be easy to negotiate for they have no way out"

"Open fire", said Captain Finn in growling reply.

"B-but Sir….your bride?", coughed the blustered man in stunned reply.

"I said open fire, Mr Snyder!", yelled Mr Finn turning his eyes, sparkling with malevolence and the scent of victory, to the well-preened man.

"Aye, aye Sir. Sergeant-of-arms, open fire!"

"All hands, fuse t'the cannons", shouted the call across the pulsating decks of the HMS Initiative as smouldering fuses pressed to the powder holes of each forged iron cannon.

And, as if timed to foul synchronicity by the twisting of an evil hourglass, the cannon of all three Naval ships roared with vile will, each leaden ball screaming with death and carnage towards the stricken pirate vessel.

For the grim spectre of death had at last cast its gloomy shadow o'er The Slayer.

"What say ye Cap'n?", asked Xander in fear but found little comfort in Faith's simple and sorrowed reply.

"We be fuck'd!"


	13. Chapter 13

_**BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!**_

The cannon roared out as if unleashing the cruel curs'd breath of every foul wretch of the underworld, each riotous gunwale of the three Naval ships exploded into life as balloons of flame spat forth without mercy 'pon the choking black clouds drifting across the waters which enveloped the bright of the morn.

For chaos and death reigned supreme. Forged steel and leaden shot hungered for flesh.

The bow of The Slayer drifted ever onward into the oaken pincer of death as the HMS Jericho, sprite on its heels, swung hard to port to block the flight of the pirate vessel and readied their cannon once more to riddle the nomadic prow unanswered. The clear water before the demonic figurehead pockmarked as the Royal Navy sought to find their range sending up lashes of spray 'pon the cut-throats who fell into a heaving throng where dread panic mingled with the blood lust they felt and wrangle their blackened hearts into silence.

"B, please", shouted Faith over the infernal din of iron thunder as she hauled Buffy down from sight of eager gunners in the mast-tops.

"W-why? Surely this all b-be a mistake….a-a gunner out of sorts mayhaps….", sputtered Buffy as her face drained of its vibrant hue. Her mind had been well warped by the romantic heroism of the seas oft penned in the dreary novellas sold for tuppence ha'peny in the markets of Spittalfields. For Buffy had ne'er envisioned that such thunderous horrors could become as flesh. "….w-we can still reach an accord with them….if we raise white flag then…."

"_**Ne'er**_ will such colors fly o'er _**my**_ ship", snarled the pirate as she eyed the encroaching vessels which flashed with cannon fire most impatient to find the crunch of hull. Faith tossed her tricorn aside desperately wringing her mind for a way of flight. "Just put it on, damn ye B"

"Fine", said Buffy not liking the obedience demanded of her but she could see the fear and anger sparkling within Faith's deep brown orbs.

"Double shot at full allowance, stand t'fire when loaded an' fire at will damn ye, show them bastards what kind of crew we be!", cried Faith as her crew rallied at her boisterous call though the cacophony of iron near drown'd her words.

The lead breastplate slipped over Buffy's slender neck and its leather straps fastened tight around her back as Faith's hands, now succumbed to an anxious tremor, fumbled with the buckles but before the Captain could finish her tying, the timbers 'neath her heel shuddered as the fevered gunports of the HMS Initiative spat out with a hail of sparks and plumes of flame as they unleashed a full broadside of twenty pounders tearing into The Slayer's port side wounding her greatly.

_**BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!**_

Spills of splintering wood and twisted metal spluttered across the decks as the band of pirates and ne'er-do-wells ducked but their skin still tore and crimson flowed free as each cannon roared its full spite sounding out the chaotic lullaby of death ushering the pirates closer towards Beelzebub's fiery torment.

"Damn them, they have our range!", yelled Faith over the incessant booms which rang in her ears like the tolling of approaching damnation, stumbling and clattering over the shards of debris and spilled blood which grew ever thicker with each strike from all three Naval ships.

"Cap'n, the portside be breached", shouted Spike over the terrible din of rage which set the salty air around them as if in cloister, a life snuffing shroud of gritty black smoke descended across The Slayer as it tilted sharply under the fire of the Casa De Bonecas whose Captain ordered no relent on their rage.

"Fire…..all hands…..fire damn ye!", screamed Faith as fuse touched the shafts of iron on both sides of The Slayer spitting back with a hail of screeching lead as the gentle ripple and rise of the glassy sea were shattered as thick gritty blackness choked the sun from the sky.

The Slayer, riding the swell that rose and fell in lulled movings, fired all its guns, blazing and rocking as their lead tore into the naval ships as their fire lit up the rocky islets that spilled from the island, their booms echoing off the brown crags of rock. The sound of the broadside echoed deep and heavy across the seas enveloping the ships in a morose pitch of carnage.

"Dammit Marcie, get the garrets to runnin' an' fire…. fire I says, damn yer hides!", shouted Faith as in the roar of fire and the choke of smoke a whisper of Hades took the scene.

A fiery epic pandemonium swept the scurrilous pirate crew into action as sweat, heavy with ash and powder, poured from their bodies as they felt the stoking of their courage and fired back. Cannon and musket snapped in the pan as a hail of lead spat back and forth slicing the foul air with malevolent intent. Over and over the cries of torment grew louder as murderous fire spat down from the marines in the topmasts who farewelled their tompions and picked their scurvy targets well through the cacophony of death and the swell of the waves. Their half pounder swivels running red as they looked down 'pon the gravely wounded and dead buccaneers , their roundshot stuttered as thick grey plumes of deaths promise flamed the air 'til The Slayer felt the thunder strike its side tearing wood and flesh alike once more.

_**BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!**_

"Spike…turn yer rigs t'port an' aim for the forepeak to stop their wheel, Mr Gunn take out the mizzen an rudder o' that bastard", roared Faith as molten agonies spattered the waters on all sides as the trio of ships drew closer. Whistles of lead screamed and whirred around them as the ship, limping as if its limbs were snared in the iron teeth of a trap, hobbled forward with no helm to take.

"Which one?", replied the Bo'sun pressing filthy rag to the gush of blood spewing from Amy's shattered ribcage.

"Any feckin' one!", screamed the Captain in damnable fury, "Wait, nail that bastard afore us. If we can ground his wheel we may be able to fight past him an' give ourselves sea room to turn an' blaze our cannon right. Xander, take the…", but before Faith could finish her barking the HMS Jericho, nestled off the battered prow, took fuse to their cannon once more in a vile spew of jagged fire.

Grapeshot ripped through their rigging and raked their deck in a shredding hail of metal, blood sprayed free from throats and bones crack'd 'neath the hellish lethal rain. A rasping clutching wail of anguish sang out from each cannon which burnt red as a morbid prelude to the sickening dull thud of shot smacking into flesh. As canister shot bludgeoned The Slayer from all sides, suffering grievously in its damage, the ship noted for its belligerence whimpered into submission as great flailing snakes of smoke span round the vessel which limped ever onward toward its doom.

"Give 'em yer pieces, make ready to tack about", Faith bellowed through the thick fog borne of powder as she dragged the bleeding body of Lorne from the twist of lead and shattered glass as her cabin, her hallowed haven from all, was ripped asunder by the Casa De Bonecas who under Mr Langton's expert seamanship who, would show no mercy for they knew they would prevail.

"But Cap'n, with no rudder…."

"Drop the larboard anchor an' hold fast, it should take us about t'strafe 'em", cried the Captain as she ripped free her sleeve and held it firm to the splutter of blood stemming from the bewhiskered throat of the loyal Germanic man.

"C-Cap'n…I…", he coughed out in blood soaked gasps.

"Nay my friend…..do not talk, ye need to save yer strength", said Faith biting her lip for she would bear no wound of the flesh that could hurt as much as seeing the man who had looked o'er her for so long, fallen and swathed in a mask of ugly grey. She held his hand tight as another barrage unleashed its full malicious torment 'pon the pirates who scampered 'neath the harrowing of heathen grace.

Muskets cocked with vim as the marines fired from all sides sending up spatters of splintering wood as their shot riddled the decks and masts, each leaden ball hungry for the shredding of flesh and the spouting of blood. From the topsail of the HMS Initiative came down another volley from the half pounders bludgeoning holes through the timbers of the pirate vessel.

"Another…quick", yelled the rugged Mr Gunn as he tossed the sightless musket back to Dawn as she handed him another fresh with powder and trimmed straight with shot whilst she kept her head ducked behind the twenty pounder which had been blown from its moorings and upended as if it be naught but metal carrion. Dark howls and low slung evil rumbles rang out as if deathly hymn were played by the Naval cannon biting through the hull and sail of the stricken pirate ship, but the youngster felt naught in the way of fear, for she had suffered much worse in her short life and, despite Faith's protests, had raided many a schooner in her time cursing its crew with her silver daggers.

She deftly poured powder and shot into each one as the hammer of the gods pounded down on the air around her but Dawn could not humble the smile engraved on her face which blackened well, her hair a tangled mess of spilled blood from her shipmates but she cared not. As her crack'd horn raised and poured forth its grains of powder to rattle down the steel shaft of musket and flintlock alike the youngling felt somehow at ease in the welcome of purgatory as Wesley clung to her small breast after she had tucked him into her shirt for safety.

The Bo'sun eye narrowed again as his expert aim sent mariners tumbling from the mast-tops down on the decks with sickly thuds of shattering bone and spilled intestine. His sight was of blessed degree and as his pan snapped over and over 'til his fingers burned from the barrel nothing in this world would keep him from fighting 'til every shot spent and every last blade broken.

"Satsu….bring me more shot", Mr Gunn yelled through the spite ridden swells of smoke sweeping across them.

"Aye", she called back biding her time as the deck pockmarked and fragmented into jagged life snuffing rents of woe.

The concubine ducked as she readied herself with a heavy hessian bag of powder and a box of shot, hauling her tattered petticoats high Satsu burst forth from the gangway leading below and across the field of misery. Leaping across slaughtered shipmates, burning fallen crossbeams setting flame to the stern sails, and torn rigging, Satsu fled towards Mr Gunn for though she be a woman of fallen morals and ruthless in her designs on fortune, she still felt pride at being part of The Slayer.

But as she neared the Bo'sun, whose last musket of spitting death tore the pompous face from a petty officer of the Casa De Bonecas, Satsu screamed with gurgling pity as she was thrown back as a half pounder near tore a hole straight through her innards. Her battered gasping body lay in a mangled heap as she forced her shaking hands to try and press her innards back into the rip of skin from which they spilled. A steaming red mass of organs slipped through her desperate fingers as the whore whimpered for though she was anointed with terrible agonies, her tongue, for once, would not service her needs and cry forth her sufferings.

_**BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!**_

High and crippled, The Slayer rode ever onwards through the vile tide which would carry them to no mercies merely an eternity of damnation as the greater numbered cannon of the HMS Initiative tore once more without pity into their hull, smashing a great hole asunder in their exposed larboard side which bore gunports no more as the thick oak smashed into kindling sending corpse and kin into the murky waters.

"Mr Gunn, rip their damn mizzen t'shreds! Tack straight to hi, an' fire the starboard battery, rake his deck with grape an' smash his fuckin' riggin'!", came the Captain's order which filled with so much anger and desperation that it made her lungs near tear free and her eyes burn through salty balm. Faith's grinding teeth near snapped free at seeing Satsu fall so greatly, her ribs snapped off and poking out through the gaping wound as she drowned on her own breath.

"But his stern will not show, we cannot riddle them with…."

"'Pon fathers blood, do as I say… or else the day be lost!", yelled the Captain as she leapt across the foreskillet 'neath the volley of spitting lead which snared and splintered the deck as the soldiers took great sport in her fleeing form.

She ducked behind the forepeak which once stood proud but was now but a toppled smouldering ruin of planks, as Andrew stood before her shielding his face with one arm as he lashed with wetted rags at the lit casks which had sparked well in the flaming carnage raining down across The Slayer. Her scarred and tattooed arms snatched up rags too and, standing defiantly next to Andrew, she whipped the rags to snuff the spreading flames but though the powder were saved, the curve of the longboat had been holed and taken to burning but no wetting could save it now.

"Ken…..help me", shouted Faith as she slashed its moorings ropes into splayed twine with her sword as she and her First Mate put mighty hoist to their shoulder and heaved it overboard down into the blackened water tarnished with bloody flow.

"Warren, ye an' Marcie help me take the wheels off, the breeching ropes will snare in our shot an' shatter them gunports, and with Allah's mercy we can away", yelled Mr Gunn as he threw down his spent weapon and gripped well the cannon which bore the hallmark of Flemish design. The three of them wrenched with desperate determine, as their muscles ripped and eyes bled in effort, 'til the rear wheels were hauled free and the hulking forge of iron slammed down giving high elevation to its aim.

Mr Gunn blew soft on the fuse torn from the hand of a fallen shipmate and pressed it to the cannon which spat forth its blackened gift of carnage as it tore through the bulwarks and shattered the mizzen mast of the HMS Initiative on one side sending it crashing not into the sea but across the decks tearing marines from their lofty peaks sending them plunging onto the heaving mass of Irish soldiers on the deck who scattered as wood, rigging and men crashed down on to them.

"Damn good work Mr Gunn", said Kennedy as she saw the panic and confusion unfold on the naval head ship as the Navy fought to clear the tangle of the fallen mast which had silenced their guns.

"Xander, port broadside an' full cannon", yelled the Captain turning her back from Mr Finn's ship which was a crumble of dread where the mast had crashed its crossbeam through the decks skewering the gunwales into a wreck of lead and wood.

"Cap'n…we have no more shot! We have powder aplenty but naught t'fire", yelled Spike through a crimson mask as a stray musket shot had torn open his forehead, a flap of skin hanging down across his face.

"Then break open my chests", she screamed back as the HMS Jericho afore them tore more chunks from its mewling prow as The Slayer limped forward like a wounded beast looking for a place to breathe its last.

"Really?", yelled Mr Gunn as his hairless dome glistened in the glow of the fires breaking out in the canvas above them bathing them all in menacing golden glow.

"Aye, do it now!", commanded Faith as she grimaced feeling a stray sliver of lead slice along her thigh, tearing skin in a burst of crimson.

The Captain tore the neckerchief from the neck of Kennedy and wrapped it tight around the flow of blood as she wiped the gritty smoke from her face. Faith's gaze, fuelled by desperate need, carved through the shroud of savagery choking the sun from its perch 'til she could breathe slightly easier seeing the form of Buffy whose angelic face was like a beacon of hope adrift in a mire of despair.

Buffy cowered by the remnants of the cabin door as she pressed a rough cotton rag to the stomach of Satsu whose innards were spilling forth through her dress in a twist of corsets and intestine, she clawed at Buffy's arms in agony as the lady saw her tears spill onto the face of the whore. She had seen the woman near torn in two by the bludgeon of cannon and, though Buffy quaked in terror, she had cocked a damnation to piety and ran through the barrage of angered shot which sounded with metallic pings as shot ricocheted off her lead breast plate.

"Our father who art in heaven…hallowed be thy name...", Buffy said piously as the roar of cannon deafened her words as Satsu, forcing a small smile on her face, tried to pray with her but within seconds her eyes glassed over.

"M-M-Miss….I…w-wish…to…", sobbed Satsu as her blood spattered out with each heavy breath until she wrenched no more, her eyes dimmed as Buffy sobbed at the corpse in her juddering arms.

For Satsu breathed no more.

"Please no", Buffy gasped as she put a bloody powder smeared hand to her mouth and tried to snare her sob for though she found little to like in this whore, to have her life slip from her while she lay in Buffy's arm was a torture she knew not existed. As the blood pooled around her knees Buffy could not find in her heart to let this woman's still body be left and cast as mere morsel to the scavengers of the oceans, her arms gripped tight to Satsu as her tears scoured her skin in morose demand.

"Buffy!", came the cry of the First Mate.

Kennedy, as if obeying the silent pleading hidden within her Captain's eyes, raised up and fired flintlock, its pan snapping to the spark and loosing the rounded shot at the marksman she saw hold his sights to Buffy. The shot flew straight and true crashing through his cheekbone and burying its lead deep in his brain.

"Buffy, come with me. I will see ye alright", called the First Mate as she pulled the Lady away from the spewing corpse keeping Buffy behind her as she reached into her bandolier and snared two more pistols to unload into the throng of men wishing to board them. They backed along the debris laden decks 'til they found slight refuged behind a trio of heavy iron cannons which had been blown into an impromptu barricade where Willow knelt in penitent terror.

Kennedy snapped up o'er the shield of metal, bolstered by the thrill of bloodshed, and unleashed its leaden fury through the billowing smoke towards the Naval ships who crept ever closer.

"Just keep down, Buffy", shouted Kennedy o'er the snap of the flintlocks whose bursts of flame illuminated the red of the maids flowing tresses.

"M-Miss Buffy", stammered Willow through her scrubbing tears of fear as her Mistress took her by the quivering hands.

"Will, it be alright. Have faith and we shall…..oh", said Buffy as her eyes widened fast for she could see the trickle of liquid puddle on the deck between Willow's legs, the maids bloomers had fast filled with the bitter tang in her palpable fear and sobbed as if she were reduced to a mere infant.

"Shhh, my dear Will", said Buffy as he yanked her best, and only true, friend into her arms as the maid wailed her dread free as the battle roared its stampede around them as if ushering them towards the cold hand of the Reaper.

"Cap'n", cried Andrew shaking Faith from her watching of Buffy' stout heartedness in which she found even more to admire, "We got yer chests"

Marcie and Andrew dragged out the two great chests from the remnants of the Captain's cabin and cracked their locks with the firm blow of axehead and tossed them over, countless jewel and coin spilled on to the decks in a dance of glistening treasure.

"Now fill yer cannon well", cried Faith as she handed out the spoils as notched gold coins forged in Spain, and diamonds rent from Burmese mines did rattle down the cannon barrel as The Slayer readied their broadside.

"Yer word skipper?", asked Xander as his taut muscular bare chest flexed well with each ramming of his gun.

"Fire at will…all guns, blow the bow-bitten shicers t'bits!", screamed Faith as she swung her sword down as it glinting well in the murk enveloping them.

In one mighty clattering roar the portside of The Slayer burst into a blinding flame spitting out its rainbow of slaughter with such power that the pirate ship lilted in its lumbered keel sending the crew flailing back across the deck. Kennedy grabbed Willow round the corseted waist and dropped her sword to grasp tight to the iron cannon which was fixed hard with its weight as the pirates failed around the deck.

"Will!", screamed Buffy as her bloody grip slipped from her maid's hand.

"Buffy!", cried Willow as she saw her Mistress roll away across the chaos of human suffering.

Buffy tumbled in a heap as she clasped for steadiness from the cold hand of slaughtered pirates 'til she grabbed at the hustings to cease her fall, her legs kicking wildly as her sickness grew in her. She had always believed those who sailed 'neath the King's colours to be stout and true men, not cowardly brutes who would kill without mercy and harangue unto death innocents such as she.

The Casa De Bonecas felt the full power of the scourge of the Caribbean for the first time as sharp edged jewels tore through their sails, stamped coins and engraved cutlery tore flesh from bones and souls from bodies as the great Portuguese ship seemed to flinch in cowardice. Rubies and sapphires lashed at the rigging and sent near a dozen men falling to their deaths as their bones clattered to the ripped wooden decks where desperate men clamoured for limbs torn off and eyes ripped from their sockets by the one broadside which seemed to bludgeon the Casa De Bonecas into silence.

Captain Langton coughed the smoke from his charred lungs as he fought himself back to his feet shrugging of his midshipmen like they were little more than septic hounds put to the sword. His smart uniform now thick with blood and sinew as they were ripped to pieces afore him as the scythes of The Slayer lashed out their treasured fury. Shrieks of agony and whines of flintlock'd metal rang around Mr Langton, his face aghast for though he knew The Slayer would not surrender easily he knew not that such a ferocity would still exist in the hearts of pirates who faced their end.

_**BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!**_

The buccaneers had little time to savour their wounding of the beast for the HMS Initiative, manned chiefly by Irish brigands, had cleared their cannon and let loose a ferocious volley ripping into the pirate ship from larboard. The splintering hull of The Slayer tore open as the rush of sea water filled brig, galley and bilge, but the upper hold where cargo of rich combustion sat, was thankfully undamaged and lay silent. Canister shot rained down and tore into everything, ripping lethal holes in the pirates who screamed their last 'pon this hateful morn.

"Cap'n, we be shot through an' flailing mad, 'tween water an' shot we be listing dangerous", called Xander as he pulled the huddled form of Anya from her place curled 'neath the toppled capstan. His disappointment in her did ache his heart well for they were in merciless peril and she thought only of cowering away from the fight.

"Amy, take the pump an' sluice it well", yelled Faith o'er the cacophony which made the very air around them shudder, the fury of the guns shouted its full throated anger as the pirate vessel, which had seen port 'pon every sea, was gasping as it lurched forward through the flotsam of blasted plank and torn corpse.

"Aye, aye Cap'n", replied Amy with twitching grimace as she threw down her blades, gripped her bloody side, and ran below to man the bilge pump to frenziedly try and keep the ship afloat a while longer 'til they could find sea room to flee or fight 'til their last.

_**BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!**_

The remaining cannon on the port side of The Slayer were silenced forever by the barrage smashing them into a slumping tangle of forged iron, shattered wood and broken bodies as the Casa De Bonecas had revived due to the timely intervention of Captain Finn's ship. Blank shrouds of canvas tore down, halyards and spindrels hung loose from their joints, severed limb and innards spilled across the deck as Faith ran aft with enlivened gait, though in her heart she knew that they were on the eve of destruction.

"Dammit Marcie, don't give up on me now!", cried Faith as she wrapped her arms around the great iron cannon which had blown into the air and smashed down on Marcie's legs reducing them to hemp covered kindling. Blood spitting out freely from her wrenched open veins spattering the Captain's shirt and face with pitiless streams of crimson as Faith hauled with all her might to free her loyal crewmate.

"Cap'n….t-tis no use….I b-be…", coughed Marcie as her trembling hands gripped tight to her Star of David and raised her eyes to the heavens.

"Nay, I will get ye out", grunted Faith as her spine near tore from her body as she pulled at the cannon with every sap of the benighted buccaneers might, but as her muscles ruptured and skin fit to burst she could not move it but an inch.

"Nay Faith…g-go help Lorne….t-the casks will l-light…."

"Shut up Marcie, I will get you righted….Oz! Here now!", yelled Faith as the blood soaked Doctor, fresh from placing maudlin cloth o'er the face of Satsu, ran across under the rain of fiery lead.

"Aye Cap'n…..wha…", but before Oz could finish his words he slumped to his cloth breeched knees, blood spurting in a foul torrent from the jagged stump of his neck, a putrid fountain of crimson arcing around for his head were torn clean off by the rattle of grapeshot fired by the Jericho. The chain forged to the leaden cannon shot swang around wildly as if searching for prey and only sated in its quest by the good Doctors awkward prance.

"Oz", said Faith in a surrendered whisper as his body fell next to her, gushing scarlet liquid in a foul and evil pool.

The guns of the Navy tore through the hull again and again with a deviant shuddering, the whole ship lurching in pain and singing with the screams of the suffering as it heeled to port as the mainmast shivered, teetered and fell wrenching down crimson sail and the flail of rigging as it crashed over the hammock cranes and into the sea as smoke spread across the shadowy waters like a retching seething being searching for evil intent.

"Ken!", screamed the maid as she wept in terror whilst the roar of cannon ripped the air asunder as if a symphony of Be'elzebub's own devising was being played out.

"Will, stay down", cried Kennedy as she hauled riggers and shot free from the magazine.

The gunports of the Casa De Bonecas, though torn and struck badly, flashed in unison as each muzzle sparked into life sending its evil gifts towards the stricken pirate vessel as the shot ripped through the gundecks and obliterated the wales and striking the hold.

_**KA-BOOM!**_

Faith felt a great rumble 'neath her feet as she ran across the deck but her body was blown high into the air and crashed through the last smouldering remnants of her cabin where she lay in a tangle of broken glass and twisted lead for the last broadside had ignited the casks of naphtha stored below blowing most of the deck into splinters of burning wood and near ripped the ship in twain with its mighty boom.

The crude petroleum exploded in a burning inferno blasting the deck into shards as the sticky flames shot through the air setting fire to the sails and cracking the aft mast as it too crashed down into the waves. The burning naphtha clung to every fibre of wood and canvas and burned as if spat from hells own foundry as its blast sent a great ball of fire into the air and through the lower decks.

Amy burst onto the deck screaming in agony as the flames engulfed her whole, her once beautiful form stripped away to be replaced by a swirling terror of flame as she was doused with the naphtha. She thrashed around desperately as her hair and clothes burnt away, her skin reduced to puckering sinew, her eyes roasted from her head as each breath drew the flames further into her agonies.

Her suffering was ended with but one regretful blast of mercy, Mr Gunn firing his flintlock through her head sending fragments of burning skull to the holed deck. Great balloons of blast and flame billowed from the shattered deck and lashing the aching air as The Slayer writhed in the throes of death as it lay mortally wounded as if a mighty oaken steed was felled and gelded by flagged men. The crew bled and gasped their last on the gritty powder blasted deck in the furious deafening of the battle.

"Damn them all t'hell!", roared Faith as she tore free from the scorched wood and singed canvas burying her as she rose from what was left of her cabin.

"Cap'n, they be loading' f'r another side", yelled Mr Gunn as the last of his cannon fell into the burning sputtering inferno which snuffed the last hope of the pirates.

"Ken! Lorne!", screamed Faith looking to what remained of the port-side.

Her eyes wetted for she no longer saw her trusted friends standing firm but a pit of fire as if spat from hell itself for a great portion of the deck had been blown clean off leaving naught but a sprig of ash to bury.

The spine of the ship crack'd with the huge explosion, near tearing fore from aft as the three Naval ships knew no mercy and once more burst into spitting venomous sequence as ropes and blocks broke free and tumbled down to the blood and body strewn deck of The Slayer as the heavy shroud of battle engulfed them.

"Cap'n, we be smashed t'bloody splinters!", yelled Spike to as he wiped the blood from his eyes as canister fired down unrelenting 'til musket's desire was sated.

She stared out to the ship blocking their escape and the stretch of sea beyond, but in her heart Faith knew no such salvation awaited them, and saw that the HMS Jericho was low in the water and sluggish answering the helm, its stern twisted into debris and its rudder cast off as flotsam due to Mr Gunn fine mastery of cannon.

"Xander, lash fast yer graplin's an' shear off, run stemline's t'midship!"

"What in God's name does that mean?"

"Ram the bastard! We be fuck'd Xan, but I will not be goin' down alone….gather what berth y'can and slam us into that ship afore us, loose the anchors an' send us all t'hell!", cried the Captain as she rose to her proud feet for no longer would she duck 'neath the musket and cannon of the Navy, if she were about to find herself at the gates of hell then she would do so with a blade in her hand cloaked with the blood of her foes.

Spike slashed away at the burning canvas to give them any hope of snaring a breeze as a choking gritty fog burned his lungs and swirled all around them, the rattle of chain rumbled underfoot as the anchors were loosed to lessen their crack'd bow and The Slayer headed into the larboard side of the HMS Jericho captained by Mr Jack Harper.

Riding the faint swell and lash of wind the naked pirate ship trembled and lurched forward drifting to a heavy crunching halt in the side of the Naval ship breaching its side and sending sputtering flame down onto the decks sending engulfed mariners into rabid panic. The Slayer, dying, burning and holed, laden with corpse and blood, spitting its last defiant act of vengeance, now lay wedged in the wreckage of the Jericho with its keel buckled and snapped into jagged wrenches, but it would keep them afloat for a while longer for the two other ships of the Royal Navy would not fire more for fear of wrecking the other as the HMS Initiative and the Casa De Bonecas were but feet away from the ailing vessel. All gunnery ceased as a drifting pall of smoke spread its threatening silence over the sea.

"Prepare to repel the bastards", cried Faith, her boots and weskit awash with debris ash, powder and the stench of blood, as both surviving Naval ships launched grappling hooks to latch onto their sides, "Either ye can crawl to 'em an' whimper for mercy…..or ye can stand by yer shipmates and fight 'til death. What say ye men?"

"Aye, 'til death!", came back the shouts of her men.

"Then….for life, love an' liberty!", cried Faith as the Initiative and the Casa De Bonecas drew tight on the ropes as the decks of the Naval ships brimmed with soldiers wanting to carve their place in infamy by being the one to bring Captain Faith Lehane to heel.

Faith, drawing in a purging breath which she knew well would be one of her last, she cast a faint smile towards Buffy who, despite her rigid upbringing, threw off the shackles of her caste and tended to the dying gasps of Marcie. Whispering words of comfort to the crushed figure, clasping her webbed fingers as she felt the warm splatter of blood tarnish her skin as the girl shrieked her agonies.

A grenade bomb landed on the scorched timbers of The Slayer with a menacing thunk, but its fuse was cut long and Spike raised it up and hauled it back with mighty lunge onto the HMS Initiative, exploding in a fury of splintering lead tearing rigging and wood alike amongst the screaming marines whose innards were torn through and limbs ripped off in jagged angry wounds as the bomb tore the sight and skin away from the men who would ne'er know the comfort of the Emerald Isle again.

"Spike, grab yer mattocks an' slice 'em well", yelled Mr Gunn as the remaining crew drew themselves to pained feet, their skin puckered and blistered at the raging inferno lashing up from their hold.

Handspikes, rammer and blades gripped tight in soiled hand as the pirates prepared to fight their last, the deep sadness of loss and the harsh elation of purpose ringing true.

"'Til we meet again, my friend", the Captain said tenderly to Xander as she handed him his well-notched scimitar.

"Aye Faith….'til we meet again", the Cox'n replied with a sad smile as she gave him a sorrowed nod.

"Get them! A crown to the man who fells the Captain!", cried the marines as they poured onto the burning deck of The Slayer from both sides, but instead of being greeted by shot ridden and broken pirates they were met by a ravenous throng of buccaneers, as if the Navy had well rattled a nest of hornets who were sting happy and savage in reply.

Faith whipped out a brace of pistols and unleashed its muzzled fury, twin whirrs of streaking lead spat forth ending in sickening thuds as shot struck flesh tearing life from the hordes from mariners who spilled onto their hallowed decks.

The tang of her blade felt the sweet swill of blood as Faith and her beloved Cox'n stood side by side as they slashed and hacked away at the oncoming masses, but as the Captain looked across she saw Spike fighting away single handed as he fought like a cornered lion. A proud and angry man who laughed wickedly as he stabbed and slashed at the hordes of marines pouring on to what was left of the deck but despite his battle hardened will the numbers were too great. He gasped, shuddered and coughed as he thrice felt the piercing of bayonet through his back, long steel shafts rupturing his organs and cracking his bones in a flurry of agonised ending.

"Spike!", cried Andrew as he barged past the soldiers and fell to his scabbed knees, lunging his body in heartbroken desperation on his slain love.

"P-please Spikey….I love ye…..do not….guhk!", Andrew exclaimed through his tears as blood spilt from his mouth as he felt the excruciating pain of a soldiers bayonet run through his back, through his heart 'til its pointed tip pierced Spike's already stilled heart.

A flicker of a smile glimpsed at Andrew's face as, through the plunge of steel, his heart was at one with Spike's. He pressed his bloody lips to his fallen love's one last time before Andrew breathed his last.

"NO!", cried Faith seeing the two men perish in but a moment. Flaming her hatred, the Captain's sword sang out its furious hymn as she hacked away at limb and ripped life from those around her, bludgeoning face with her hilt and kicking Kingsmen firm in the chest as they screamed toppling into the raging bubbling inferno whose flames where now snaking up fast as if clamouring for the sky.

But there would no licking of wounds for The Slayer be mortally wounded, struck and gasping for life as the raging fire torched her to cinders like a pyre for the damn'd whislt the wash of sea filled her from below. Her rudder, wheel and mainmast lost, her crew slaughtered. A bravely handed beautiful ship of war had been rendered unto matchwood. Their colours struck as Faith's rage and desperation caused her skin to numb as she sliced through the never-ending hordes descending onto the ship but as their blades stained with warm claret she had choice but to utter one last order.

"Abandon ship….all of ye!", shouted Faith as much as it pained her heart, she knew the battle lost and death creeping ever nearer, but she would fight to save all she could 'til her dying breath.

"Nay Cap'n surely is not all is lost", cried Xander in dread recoil.

"I said abandon ship; no mercy awaits us with the Navy. Into the waters with ye, mayhaps in the confusion ye can make escape to the island and find Tara. Mr Gunn, take Dawn with ye, for I trust ye with her life", said the Captain with a sincerity which caused the hulking negro's heart to flourish with the charge laid unto him. With Dawn trapped on the other side of the gaping hole in the deck Faith had to make a choice and, as much as it clenched her battered soul, she knew her Bo'sun would be all the family the girl could ask for should she fall.

"Aye, aye Cap'n ", replied Mr Gunn as he grasped at the singed rope hanging down the remnants of the lofted rigging and swung across the burning hole in the decks which crumbled behind him, but as he fought his way forrard towards the youngling he was felled by a gaggle of soldiers who beat him down with their muskets 'til he was rendered unto pained slumber.

Dawn, backed into the corner of the prow head, fought with vibrancy as she slashed with her twin daggers, felling a soldier by a slash to the thigh before ramming her thin steel blade through his eye 'til his brain was skewered well. She drew it back and sliced away as if demons had conjured foul alchemy 'pon her and broiled her blood unto ash as she felt naught about the slaughter she was unveiling but, as she found the blades trapped in the rib cage of a marine, she too was hauled from the sight of Faith and overwhelmed, dragged away by uniformed men whose fists slammed into her young face without pity.

"Xan, you and Anya take Buffy", yelled Faith as she drew her glistening blade from the throat of a soldier, his balding pate jerked free of the coiled powdered wig whose whitened hue was spattered with the spurts of blood spewing from his gaping wound.

"Nay, Faith. We will stand an' fight with ye always", cried the Cox'n as he fired his last shot into the thriving mass of Naval men who clamoured across the burning maindeck, an endless stream of uniformed men who clambered over their fallen comrades slashing blade and sparking flintlock into life. But the main deck was so blasted that only a three foot section on either side still stood so the remaining pirates backed up and fought their thin last line as if Horatius fighting off the hordes of Greece.

"Xan…the fight be lost.."

"But Faith…"

"No Xan, we must away for my neck will _**not**_ be a trophy for 'em…just take care o' Buffy", said the Captain as she wiped the thick mask of blood from her face.

"With my life", said Xander solemnly as he held his scimitar to his heart and grasped for the thin arm of Buffy's, the ruffles on her shirt doused with scarlet liquid.

"But Faith….I-I will not leave you here…come with us…just because you are Captain, you don't have to go down with your ship….please!", begged Buffy as she tugged on the powder burnt sleeve of Faith.

"Aye, as much as it shames me….I will flee too. But I must make sure of yer escape, now t'the stern with ye and o'er the side. Xan and Anya will stay with ye"

"B-but ye will be right behind us….right?", asked Buffy with fear latching onto every sound snapping from her throat.

"Aye…I will form a rear-guard an' then flee with ye….now go….please B", yelled Faith as she pressed her lips to Buffy's one last time afore charging headlong into the fray for she knew that a noble death cancelled out the shame of a lowly birth.

"Faith!" cried Buffy as she watched the buccaneer leap into the mass of bodies forcing her romanticised frame through the thick plumes of choking smoke, punching and slashing in a frenzy of horror as Warren fought proudly by her side as they sliced gullet and punched gizzard sending the Kingsmen falling into the pit of fire.

"Miss Buffy, come with me", said Anya as she pulled Buffy away 'til they reached the mangled remains of the cabin though the lady near wept at being hauled away leaving the Captain fighting unto death for her.

Xander stepped forward and stared o'er the splintered stern, which bore little remnants of old from the repeated broadsides from all three ships, he saw in amongst the scorched debris and burning oils turning the seas to a bubbling rage there was a space of still water where they could leap to in safety and, with the blessing of heaven, make their way to the shore and lose themselves in the cower of the impenetrable jungle.

"Xander", shouted Anya from behind him with an unusual wisp making him turn back to her.

"Wha….", but before he could finish his simple word he felt a terrible burning rip through his bones and tear his heart in twain. His eye glinted in confusion and shock as he stared at the smoking barrel in the hand of Anya, the last sight he would e'er see as he coughed forth a splutter of crimson and slumped into a silent heap of spilled blood and sorrowed bones.

And then felt nothing more.

"Xander!", screamed Faith as she saw the man she loved as if he were of the same loins as she, fall to the decks with a sickening thud. Her throat filled with bile and rage as she looked to see the smug look on Anya's face as the vile swine dragged Buffy, stunned into unfeeling silence, towards the grappling wales of the HMS Initiative who had, due to the swell of the tide, pulled ten feet away leaving Anya with no escape save for the surge of soldiers hacking the last of the pirates to death.

The soldiers had forced the retreating line of bloody buccaneers back 'til they had encircled them, but 'pon seeing the fall of Xander, Faith's anger peeked to a level she had ne'er felt afore. Entangled in torn and burning canvas Faith thrust and bludgeoned her way aft across the mangled dying wreck that she called home.

Faith felt no further pain as the soldiers before her sliced and nicked her flesh for she tore through the ranks in a furious tempest of slashing blade and bludgeoning meathook through the crack of skull 'til she reached the crumbling stern of the ship which was lilting fast as the decks filled with water.

"Anya….what in hells teeth?", roared the pirate louder than any cannon as her eyes washed with rage and heartbreak.

"Come no closer Cap'n….or else yer beloved Buffy will spill her precious life's blood 'pon your deck too", said Anya as she backed up holding her sword across Buffy's narrow throat keeping the lady 'tween her and the ferocity of Faith.

"B-but…why? W-what did Xander ever..", choked out Faith through her sulphurous tears as she looked down 'pon the carcass of the one eyed man.

"Oh Faithy, ye really believed I loved him? Nay, I were only with him out of pity but I grew sickened of him near a year ago, 'tis why I would not lie with him anymore. But I could not return to land without getting my neck stretched, The Slayer was the only place I could hide in safety. But I hated bein' a lapdog to the likes o'you"

"B-but Oz an' Amy….they had t'die for ye too?"

"I ne'er wanted it to go this far Cap'n, I begged ye to turn back at the Hyperion straits, I tried t'get ye to turn back at the hellmouth, even when Ken was in charge I tried t'get her to turn back before the storm but nay, instead ye had to lead Captain Finn on a merry chase round the seas"

"Y-ye mean?"

"Aye, it were _**me**_ who told him where we were", glowered Anya in a smirk of purest cruelty, "Ye really think I were sending _**two**_ pigeons to Angelus? Nay, one were always for Captain Finn an' once I told him about Tabula Rasa I knew he would finally have us. Aye, it were me who disabled the rudder too so he could take us with less of a fight"

"B-but at Madam Dru's…it were ye who defended my honour an'…", said Faith with a ghastly pall blanching her skin.

"You really be a fool Cap'n. Jessie saw me meeting with the Kingsman so I had to silence him. He came to tell ye of my deceit so I needed to cover my tracks, The Black Dog is always a powderkeg waiting to fire so I threw the first punch knowing the brawl that would erupt. In the chaos I could seek out Jesse and kill him….so I did. An' it were me who took the cross of Gun-I-Sawai , I gave it t'the Kingsman to prove him my loyalty"

"Ye murdered Jesse? Ye sold all our lives into treachery…and for what?", roared Faith as her knuckles whitened around the hilt of her sword.

"Gold….and lots of it. Ye always shared yer bounty with us but we could have made ten times the amount we did if ye were to ransom wenches properly an' take our slaves, and also all the loot ye buried instead of letting us have it. But bein' wanted pirates we could not take it and spend it on land. But now, Captain Finn has promised me a King's pardon and a Queen's fortune", Anya sneered back as she inched towards the approaching side of the HMS Initiative.

"Ye fool Anya, ye think he will keep his word? He will stretch yer neck just like ye have sentenced us all to"

"N-nay, he has promised me wealth beyond measure…. even more if Buffy remained pure, 'tis why I protested so much when that vile witch wanted to snatch her flower away. So drop yer sword Cap'n….. or yer precious Buffy will die", growled Anya holding the blade closer to Buffy's throbbing neck.

Faith, with nary a word left to wring from her breath, dropped her blade to the deck leaving her unarmed save for the anger encased in her whitened knuckles making Buffy's eyes bulge wide at her willing surrender.

A surrender she gave in exchange for the life of the lady.

"Anya", said Buffy in a small voice.

"What?"

"You are less than filth!"

With the swiftness of serpent's strike Buffy pulled forth the concealed dagger from her weskit and plunged it deep into Anya's thigh and twisted it well.

Anya screamed as her grip on her captive loosened letting Buffy leap forward into the safety of Faith's arms but the Captain, in mind of vengeance not comfort, pushed the Lady gently to one side as she picked up Xander's nicked scimitar and rounded on the woman who wrenched the bejewelled dagger from her pouring wound and staggered back.

Seeing the burning anger within Faith's eyes Anya backed up as she hobbled away holding her sword out before her in feeble protection, the soldiers were battling ever nearer but the treacherous woman needed to stall the Captain just a little longer with whatever means she could.

"N-now Cap'n…calm yourself…gold! I can share the bounty with ye and…. "

"Xander was not of my blood", growled Faith in a primal guttural scurl, "But he was brother to me",

"B-but Cap'n…..p-please", whimpered Anya as she clasped both hands rounds her cutlass to steady her shaking body.

"Ye took my Xander", snarled Faith as with one sharpened cudgelling blow she swung the curved edge of the sword across and watched as Anya screamed and fall to her knees.

The spurting blood fired out in a gushing spray as Anya tried desperately to use her jagged stumps to pull her severed hands towards her. Sliced off at the wrist, her gouged arms sent a tide of crimson over the decks as Anya looked up with terrified eyes awash with agonies.

"Anya…..I'll be seeing ye in hell", snarled Faith though stinging eyes simmering with tears as she swung the sword round slicing the blackened smoke encircling them as she slammed the blade down with all her might and anger through Anya's head cracking her skull in twain. It burst open in a shower of blood and shattered teeth as the scimitar only ceased it's slicing when the blade stuck in the lower jawbone of the mutinous swine. Anya's corpse slumped down as Faith spat on the mangled bloody wreck of a body, a fitting anointment for villainous wretches such as she.

Buffy turned from the sickening scene, her anguish rampaging tenfold, but she felt her shoulder barged as Faith stumbled back towards her before slumping to her knees. She cradled Xander's head in her hands and wept like a broken infant, she had not cried like this since her father's passing so many moons ago. Though the soldiers were breaking through the last line of pirates Faith could not move, crippled by sorrow and quivering with dry heaving sobs as the musketmen came closer. But the vicious pirate cared little as she held the head of the man she loved as if borne of the same heathen womb.

"Faith, they come!", shouted Buffy in the deafening screams of shot and pain as death enveloped and strangled what little life still held to The Slayer. But Faith could feel nothing as despair took her whole as she cradled Xander's lifeless form in her arms whilst her tears blazed trails down her face. Her shaking fingers slipped behind his eyepatch and, as a mark of honour, slid the hidden prize into her mouth and swallowed though her throat was raw and raked well.

"Faith!", screamed Buffy desperately as a trio of soldiers, brandishing their scarlet soaked blades, now stood but ten feet from them slowly inching towards the pirate in caution for her repute for being immortal still rang true with them.

"Stand aside Miss", shouted Mr Parker as he and two other soldiers snaked towards them with swords drawn ready to skewer the sorrow ridden pirate.

Buffy stared at the men with open mouth, then to Faith who was paralyzed with misery as her tears ran free unable to stop them or move to defend herself. Buffy trembled with terror knowing that within moments Faith would be skewered by Kingman's blades and cast off her mortal coil.

Buffy's own fears, though ferocious and ablaze, were reined in for she knew that in this moment Faith needed not pity nor the weeping of a damsel but the strength harbouring deep within the Lady. The Captain, paralyzed by her choking pain, was washed away into her own world of brittle mourning as Buffy stood helpless for within moments she would witness the end of a legend.

Drawing in her breath, though the air tinged with smoke and shot, Buffy faced her damnedest fears and clutched the ornate hilt of Faith's sword in her hand. Though she felt such sickness in her innards, Buffy, roused by her feelings for the dread Captain of the waves, tightened her grip around the rapier and flicked her eyes, now full of thunder and a scurrilous joy she swore she would ne'er seek again, towards the three men creeping ever closer.

"Miss Summer, please stand aside", they shouted once more as Buffy stood between them and the rogue of the waves.

"Nay!", Buffy snapped back as her heart thundered in a way she had not felt in the longest of times but she could still feel her ebbing terror as the hilt pressed into her palm. Though her tears rousted within her eyes and she wished not face her true fears by once again feeling the weight of a sword in her hand, a new and fiercer feeling took her, something stronger than her terror….her love.

As the battle had now unfurled its terrible rasp, Buffy, to her own astonishment, felt her heart and mind cast off the meekness she had been anchored with these last years past and now stood proud with sword once more in hand. With Faith in great and deadly peril it seemed to unshackle a desperate beast of bloody protection within Buffy as if the cry of the fight had flushed her with a new found vigour.

A lunging shielding streak unearthed from deep within the soul of the haughty lady who felt the damnable shackles of timidity shed away for, in that moment, her mask finally crack'd and in its place a phoenix of unbridled courage took her heart in its fiery talons.

Buffy's teeth shivered as she sucked in a deep lung of charring black smoke and fired off the most scouring of scoundrelled smirks, framed in blackened grime and fuelled by exhilaration, as one hand pressed to her hip and the other swished the sword around, a gliding elegant sliver of steel slicing the air, and, once her stance taken, pointed it towards the soldiers as she said the two words she had once feared ever to utter again.

"En garde"

"Miss? Surely you jest…..we are here to save you", said Mr Parker as she stood in surprise whilst Buffy moved with nimble footwork to stand 'tween the soldiers and the broken pirate.

"I warn you Sir, one more step and I will be forced to defend myself", said Buffy with unflinching smile as all the thrills she felt whilst practising her fencing skills in secret with Mr Merrick came flooding back, firing every bloodcell in her body into a frenzy of delight as the blade swished through the air.

"Miss…..I am afraid I have no choice….", said Mr Parker as he lunged forwards but Buffy's blade crashed and snickered as her steel met his in a fury of sparks. Her booted feet shuffled back and forth as if caught up in a feverish whirl as the steel rang out in clanking metallic welcome for her rapier, though lacking the grace of a foil, swung through the gritty air as each of Mr Parker's skilled strikes was parried by the lady and he was forced back for Buffy was by far the superior swordsman.

The glinting metal span and weaved as they pranced in forged enchantment, the fire of the ships catching on the steel lending it a terrible hue of a livid orange. Buffy's hand raised in fine stance as she balanced on the listing deck as his face swept with fear, Mr Parker swung wildly as she ducked and ran the tip of her blade through his shoulder gifting him not a grievous blow but one enough to shred his assurance.

"S-She be possessed…..the devil be in her! Quick, run the wench through", Mr Parker wheezed as all three men thrust their swords at her, but she bobbed and wove as if borne of liquid, her feet shimmying as if performing an elegant dance, her rapier slashing the swords of her foes.

"Wench? Moi? How dare you Sir!", mocked Buffy in return as the swords clashed ferociously but as the trio of blades came at her she deftly parried blocked their thrusts 'til the men feared her thunderous attack.

All three blades came at her but Buffy, awash in the furious delight of being able to hold sword once more in her dainty hand, defended herself with a juddering cackle as the tang of blade snapped out as she fought the trio of soldiers simultaneously, her one blade to their three 'til they were on the backfoot inching towards the fiery pit of hell. The clang of forged metal rang out as the Lady lashed her rapier forward driving all three fine men back further, the steel snickered rapidly in a melody of clanging steel as Buffy felt such freedoms that, though she were fighting 'gainst men of the Crown, she felt as if her soul could finally sup 'pon the life which she had ne'er found the courage to live.

Mr Parker screamed as the blade in Buffy's skilled hands sliced him straight across the knee spilling his blood as he fell in defeated heap.

"M-Miss", gasped the soldiers as one felt the tip of her blade slice him deep across the chest 'til the last man, out skilled by the finest fencer London would ne'er know of, grabbed her from behind. His arms circled Buffy and he tried to haul her away but the Lady bent at the waist before firing back a thunderous blow as the back of her head crack'd him well in the face leaving his nose a shattered flow of crimson as he fell cold-cocked.

"F-Faith?", gasped Buffy as the soldier fell away in a slump leaving the pirate queen standing there with gaping maw as she stared at the Lady with bloodied sword.

"B….what the hell?", she said pointing the bleeding men who cried in skin rupturing pain.

"Oh…..there be something I should tell you", smiled back Buffy but before any further words could spill forth another great explosion tore through The Slayer cracking the keel asunder as the flatoons blew the wales from the hulk.

_**KA-BOOM!**_

As the two ladies stared at each other with but five feet parting them, the crest of the stern creaked as the timbers gave way to the spreading inferno which had raped the vessel unto death.

"Buffy!", screamed Faith as she leapt forward in desperation as Buffy fell through the deck. The pirates lunge just snared Buffy's hand as she plunged below, Faith's wounded arm wrenched in pain as she clutched with all her might as the lady swung from the wrist of the pirate above the fiery pit or burning oils and naphtha, it boiled 'neath her shoes lashing its flaming tendrils to lick at her feet with pained gift.

"Faith!", screamed Buffy as the pirate leant over the edge of the hole in the deck feeling her twice shot arm scream in agony but no pain could e'er let her loose her grip on the woman who had her heart in much the same covetous grasp.

"I have ye, B!"

Buffy's hand clutched the hand of the pirate and, though slickened with blood and sweat, she wished not to free herself from the firm warm grasp. But as Buffy's looked down to the raging inferno below her a rattling of muskets and sabres caught her eye as she could see the last of the pirate line had fallen and swathes of men inched along the remainder of the deck to encircle the pirate.

'Twas in that moment that Buffy knew of her true feelings towards the pirate who grimaced in agony as she held the dangling form of the Lady. But as the leather of her boots started to pucker as the raging inferno sought to claim her as another victim, Buffy looked up and wallowed in the deep dark eyes of Faith and smiled for in that moment of clarity she knew how much the freebooter had risked and given to protect her.

She knew just how much Faith would give of herself for Buffy.

Everything.

"Faith….you can still escape with your life...please…let me go"

"Nay, if you go…I go", grunted Faith as the bones in her shoulder were near cracking under the weight and burn of the flames 'neath them as Buffy swung with one arm feeling the intense heat ripple o'er her fair skin.

"Please Faith….just flee…. while ye still can…I have made my peace with the Lord and…", said Buffy as she could see the soldiers shield their faces from the lashing flames as they came ever closer to the pirate.

"Nay B, now I have ye…..I will ne'er let you go", said Faith through gritted face as the suffocating burning smoke lashed up at her.

"Please Faith….I beg of thee….let me go…I-I will not be the reason you die"

"Then be my reason to live"

The pirate growled desperately as her shoulders wrenched from its socket sending agonies through her body but even as her mind winced in surrender Faith would not let go of the Lady and near crack'd her teeth as she summoned the last of her strength to haul Buffy back to the deck.

Buffy's legs hooked over the edge of the gaping holes as Faith's dragged the grime laden woman from the clutches of the raging fires and into the safety of her much pained arms.

They knelt in silence, exhaustion and sorrow flooding their souls, but as they breathed heavy Faith knew she was at an end. Her body could fight no more, her heart could take no more wounding and her mind felt naught but a swelling as she looked at the trails of tears running down Buffy's face. The pirate stretched forth her well-sliced hand and wiped the salty droplets of sorrow away and cupped Buffy's cheek with scarlet stain.

"Faith…y-you could have let me go….y-you could have lived", said Buffy as she turned her face into the pirate's bloody palm and lay a tender kiss on the wound which flowed without end as she felt her heart ache in ways she could ne'er think possible.

"What kind of life would that be without ye. For life without ye would be worse than any death….for I-I love ye Buffy", said Faith with a joyful sadness as she finally said the words she had wanted to say with honesty unto the lady for the longest of times.

"Faith…I-I…", but before Buffy could finish a dozen soldiers hauled Faith away in a frenzy of kicks and bludgeoning fists as the sense was near beaten from the pirate who could suffer little more. For Faith was unarmed, gravely wounded and bearing a shattered heart at the falling of her ship, her brother and her crew.

"Stop….no!", screamed Buffy as she too was roughly shepherded to the fractured side of the ship where the HMS Initiative had finally closed back in so the soldiers could haul the two woman aboard. The fraying grappling lines were cut by the Irish marines and thus loosed their ship leaving The Slayer to be consumed by flame and tide alike taking with it the hull of the HMS Jericho whose crew had fast abandoned her to the waves.

All snuffed out in the wake of villainous treachery.

Faith, white with pain and feebly clutching her arm, could barely move as the soldiers kicked and punched her to the battered deck where heavy iron manacles were snapped round her wrists behind her back. Her swollen eye and bleeding face cast across in horror as she saw Mr Gunn, Dawn and Warren hauled below to the brig in chains. The Captain, whose ship faded from sight as the waves took her hull, felt her heart beat no more as she knew what was to become of the few who remained.

A crew slaughtered, a family slain, but a love saved. Such balances could not equate within Faith's heart for it weighed too much to measure.

"God be thanked, the day is spent", said Mr Snyder as he surveyed the wreckage of the ships where but two now still sailed, both gravely wounded, "Wind up the slain, each with a weight at his head and feet"

"Aye, aye, Sir", replied the scorched and sodden Captain Jack Harper who sneered at the fallen pirate who had sunk his ship and snatched his vain glory from him.

"Repair the boom and bend the driver loose footed", called out the balding man as his spine snapped rigid as he fired out a salute to his emerging commander.

Buffy wrenched 'gainst the callused grips bruising her arms as the fire of the fight still billowed within her as her eyes finally snapped up to the man whose uniform bore neither scratch nor scorching.

"Elizabeth, 'tis a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. I am Riley, your husband to be", said Captain Finn as he stepped forward from his reinforced cabin where he had spent most of the battle in safety away from the scourge of death.

"My _**name **_is Buffy", snorted back the lady as she stared at him with vexation.

"Oh I think not, no wife of mine would such a lowly name. No, Elizabeth is your Christian name so that is what you will use, and I must say I do not approve of such attire for my wife is only to wear the finest of dresses", said Riley sternly motioning his hand to the torn velvet breeches and blood spattered lacy shirt clinging to her body. "But I am glad you be safe"

"Safe?", she blustered back with a spirit still soaring from conquering her fears of taking up blade again and pulled free of the clutch of the Kingsmen, "How can you say such words when you opened fire on us?"

"_**Us**_? Surely you do not set yourself as one of these verminous scofflaws", he said waving his arm to the form of Faith shackled and on her knees with the glinting tips of three bayonets pressing to her neck.

"You fired first!", repeated Buffy as she placed her clenched fists on her bruised hips in defiance of this man's pomposity.

"I did not, we were fired upon first and that is the truth"

"Nay, you speak falsely"

"The Slayer opened fire on us so we had no choice but to send her to the depths", said Riley constructing the lies his report to the Admiralty would contain.

"Nay, you opened fire on us, how dare you!", she snapped in raucous outrage, so quick to defend the outlaws she no longer felt as beyond the hope of salvation as a sudden debilitating truth struck her whole, "Willow!"

Buffy ran to the battered side of the ship as she looked out to the burning stern of The Slayer which sat barely above the rising tides, the proud ship had been raped by cannon and scorched into nothingness as it slipped 'neath the waves leaving naught but a memory of folklore.

"Y-you monster…you killed Willow", said Buffy with paling face as only corpse and burning driftwood floated in the tar black sea.

"'Tis no matter", Captain Finn shrugged as he stared at the prize before him in shackles.

"No matter? You killed her…", screamed Buffy as a sickening pain crept into her soul to mingle with her rage as she turned back to Captain Finn.

"'Tis a price I am willing to pay"

"Y-you killed Willow….ye evil bastard!", yelled Buffy as Riley recoiled in shock that her tongue had become so tainted by the presence of buccaneers that a lady found such language ready to use. But as she lunged forth a pair of burly marines grabbed her pained arms and held her still.

"Doctor, it seems Miss Summers is greatly distressed. Take her below and give her a snuff of laudanum", said Mr Finn as his chest plumped well and his clasped hands found home in the small of his back as he cast the finest silhouette of a callous pomposity.

"But Captain, I have many wounded..", said the Doctor as he lifted his bloody saw from the sinewy stump of a marine who bit down hard on the shaft of wood as his leg fell to the deck. The men of the HMS Jericho had been taken on board and flooded the decks with pained and haggard men whose injuries would soon see most unto the mercy of the Lord.

"I said now Doctor! You need to sedate her, for I will not be talked to that way by a mere woman!", ordered Riley as he nodded to his men to drag her below.

"Get off me", yelled Buffy as she pushed away the callused hands of the embittered men.

"Gentlemen, take her below", Riley sneered as his men grabbed Buffy's flailing arms and hauled her below roughly.

"Get off me ye dry mumpin' bawdy crooksmen", yelled Buffy, "I said unhand me…..Faith!"

But the cries of the lady were silence by the slamming of cabin doors as she was dragged into the depths of the ship which were holed yet seaworthy, her silence filling the pirate queen with an anger as she brushed aside the bayonets at her neck and, though her body screamed in pain, Faith hauled to her feet in her rattling shackles for she would ne'er kneel before someone like Riley.

"Well, well. It seems we meet at last Captain Lehane, I must thank thee for returning my bride to me, having her alive is a delightful bonus. But allow me to introduce myself", said Riley as he strut over his dead and wounded men as if they meant naught to him so he could eye Faith face to bleeding face.

"I-I know who ye be, Riley", said Faith as she spat her blood to the splintered deck.

"Good, then it amuses me you know of what fate is in store for you, or so you think. But my-my, it doth seem you have infected my betrothed with your evils, but I will soon rid the saucy little poppet of such inadequacies. Oh, I will take such pleasures in re-educating Buffy until she is meek, polite and obedient…... like a woman should be. If she is reluctant…..then I shall beat the insolence from her"

"Ye lay a hand on Buffy….an' I will gut you like a bitch", she snarled back as her head snapped round as the back of his hand struck her across her purpling cheek, but Faith's eyes, broiling with contempt, snapped back to his.

"Oh dear, it seems that silly girl Anyanka was right, thankyou for disposing of her by the way as it saves me the trouble, but you be sweetened on Miss Summers are you not? Tut-tut, such vile heresy. Such a shame you will never feel her love….'but I will soon correct her manners for my birching rod is ready to….."

"If ye so much as raise a finger to her…..",growled Faith as her pained body flinched in anger filling the air with a gentle rattle of chain.

"And you will do what? Your ship is sunk, your crew is dead and you are in chains. Captain Lehane ….. welcome to your end", he smirked back with foul confidence.

"It will ne'er end…. not 'til I tear yer codlings off with my bare hands", snarled Faith with a bestial bearing forging her words into dread sounds.

"Pah, I think not. Mr Snyder, haul to and repair the sails as I wish to sail by sundown….for we have a hanging and a wedding to attend to"

"Buffy is too good for scum like ye, Riley", spat Faith as his hand clenched around her scarred throat.

"On my ship you will refer to me as _**Captain **_Finn", he said as he moved his head closer to her ringing ears and whispered, "But soon….I will be known as_** Gouverneur**_ Finn"

As the words had barely nestled in Faith's bleeding ears her world fell to black under the firm clatter of a muskets stock striking her skull with a sickening crunch.


	14. Chapter 14

"I'm sorry", Joyce said with softened tones as she blew 'pon the open wound on Dawn's arm, neatly sliced and seeping, which now flooded with the maddening sting of iodine.

The young girl hissed at the cleansing salve but during the two days passed since they finally limped back across the waters to make port back in New Swaffham the kindly widow had oft returned unto the dank morose grime of the gaol cells to tend to the wounds of the pirates who languished in irons awaiting their fate.

Though the law and the Lord may judge these ne'er-do-well's, Joyce could not find it in her heart to. For the compassioned woman were of a fine Christian soul and reached out with kindness and charity to those who needed it and, despite their crimes and ill repute, she could not see these wounded felons as foul brutes who deserved to feel the snap of the rope as they danced the hempen jig on the gallows. She had been told of their heathen and pitiless ways by Buffy but the words of her daughter could not easily hoodwink the widow for Joyce, in meeting with these damn'd souls, could see them as brave creatures loyal unto death.

Mr Gunn and Johnathan, both shackled well, ate in a frenzy on the crusts of bread and slivers of cheese she had sneaked into the cell in her bussel for Captain Finn had ordered that the prisoners be given no morsels to sate their echoing hunger for as they were to swing on the morrow 'twould be a waste of fodder. The cold stone dungeon was little more than a cruel oubliette where forlorn vagabonds scavenged for scraps and stewed in their own filth by the dim flicker of the burning torches casting its light from the twists of the passageways outside the bars. The heavy fetid air reeked of decay and hopelessness as the battle beaten freebooters scraped the maggots from their rent open skin watching o'er each other for in the simple mercy of slumber the scurrying rats would feast 'pon their festering wounds.

Since their return Joyce's heart had near crack'd with blessed relief 'pon seeing her daughter once more, but though the joy blossomed in both their hearts Joyce could no longer spy the gleaming twinkle within the gaze of her beloved child. Buffy had wept fiercely at the loss of her dear friend Willow, her body racked with fierce and uncontrollable sobs, and Joyce thought it be not the time to tell Buffy the truth of her maid's scandalous heritage. A secret she would now have to burden unto the grave.

But Buffy could not tell her mother of the time aboard the HMS Initiative where the swift hand and unsparing lash of the rod wielded by Mr Finn had oft found her flesh in his cabin. Though Buffy longed to take Faith's hand into hers again the damnable Riley had promised terrible tortures 'pon the pirate if Buffy e'er sneaked away to visit her in the gaol. It burned at Buffy's heart that the woman who had gave her all to save her hide could not feel her warmth but once more before the Reaper trundled another soul up Jib-Jaks Hill, but the Lady wished not to be the one to inflict yet more suffering 'pon Faith who languished in solitude in another cell where her suffering infused the air with a sickening taste.

Joyce pressed a clean cloth to the well-sliced skin of Dawn who, despite her fears and anguish, felt her lips tug into the faint spectre of a smile as the older woman fussed sweetly o'er her. Mrs Summers hauling a mask of warmth 'pon her face in tender reply though it haunted her to see such pain and suffering cast 'pon those who had fallen afoul of the Crown. When Dawn had opened her mouth to sip at the stagnant water from the dented tin cup offered by Joyce it near wrenched the woman's soul into lamentable shards when she saw the jagged stump of a tongue.

"Dawnie, be this your monkey?", asked Joyce with a shaking smile where her tears fought to stay contained for during her visit the previous morn she could not understand why Dawn stayed silent. Mr Gunn, clapped in irons on the other side of the dank and crowded dungeon told Joyce the truth of the younglings enforced silence. Such a notion horrored the widow in ways she could ne'er imagine that anyone, especially an innocent child, could be treated so and that night, as she uttered her prayers of thanks unto the Lord for the safe return of Buffy, she included a psalm of pleading mercy for the young girl who had snatched her tender spirit.

Watching as Wesley chewed well on the thin twist of leather leashed round his tiny waist, Dawn nodded as the monkey scampered up Joyce's arm 'til he sat proud 'pon her shoulder making the older woman snigger at his heart raising capers.

"Oh what a jolly fellow he be, I think he likes me", said Joyce.

"Mrs Summers", called the gruff gaoler, a walrus moustached Mongol with hair lock'd into dreads, "Cap'n Finn wishes t'speak with ye"

"Very well", she sighed heavily as she pluck'd the one eared capuchin from her shoulder and returned him to the warm and loving embrace of Dawn. "I will come again soon, Dawnie", said Mrs Summers as she felt her matriarchal spirit unfurl 'pon the saddened girl and pressed her lips softly to Dawn's forehead as she felt such a rising of bile that a girl so young was to dance the hempen jig at noon along with the other twenty or so vagabonds and buccaneers crammed into the putrid confines of the cell where misery reigned supreme.

Mrs Summers ignored the grime staining her flowing lilac dress, her bow laden bussel rustling well in its finery and the frothing lace trim of its petticoats brushing along the urine soaked straw strewn across the cold stone floor as she stepped out through the rusting iron bars which shut and locked with a dull clang as the gaoler sealed the pirates once more to their fate.

"This way Ma'am", he said leading her along the passageways away from the dungeons and into the bright morning room which, though spartanly furnished, was a violent departure from the moribund cells. The gaoler closed the door behind the woman and locked it making her brow furrow strangely as she stood across from Mr Finn whose pristine uniform weighed heavy under the glint of medals he had bestowed 'pon himself for his gallantry at finally sinking The Slayer.

"Mrs Summers, when I forbade you from seeing the prisoners again did you think I be jesting? Why do you dare breach such codes of etiquette and tend to vermin such as these?", he said sternly as his glistening leather boots struck the floor as he circled her as if she were defendant to a blasphemous crime.

"We are all God's children Sir, and though you have not allowed Buffy to see them, 'tis my duty as a good Christian soul to help such poor wretches", said Joyce wondering why such charity should affront as she toyed awkwardly with the ribbons of her bonnet she had yet to tie back in place, "Y-you won't be hanging Dawn as well…..will you?"

"Why not? The gallowsman has many pairs of heels to earn come the morrow, the girl is a filthy scofflaw and so will swing", he said back scratching at the faint scar on his wrist from his brief stint when he kept wicket for the Norwich Gentlemen.

"B-but how can you?"

"She is but a pirate Ma'am"

"She is but a _**child**_, Sir", protested with a pressing tone for her pity would not restrain.

"Do _**not**_ dare to raise your voice to me Mrs Summers. When I marry Elizabeth…"

"Her _name_ is Buffy", snorted Joyce for her dislike for this man was fast blossoming into a quiet contempt.

"Tsk, I can see where she gets her reluctant spirit from now. No, my wife is _Elizabeth_ and that is how she will be addressed. On our journey back here she protested in much the same manner but she has fast come round to my way of thinking. A touch of the birching rod to her skin has made her learn her place" smirked Captain Finn with terrible glee as he stood proud, the sharply cut tails of his long blue Naval coat tapping the backs of his knees.

"Y-you filthy cur, Sir! You dare lay a hand on my daugh…", snapped Joyce but Riley's back hand was swift and the harsh snap of scalded flesh rang out through the room which bathed in the blessings of the sun.

Joyce fell to the floor in a shocked jumble of satin and lace as she felt the warm copper tang of blood in her mouth.

"H-how dare you Sir", gasped Joyce in bowel chilling shock as she placed a hand to her pained lip, "I will ne'er allow Buffy to take thy hand, a-and as soon as the new Governor arrives from England you will be brought to account y-you….."

But her words of rising ire were cut short as Captain Finn knelt by her fallen figure and grasped a firm handful of her tightly weaved ringlets and twisted his softened hand 'til Joyce were whimpering like a scolded puppy.

"Let me tell you exactly what I told Elizabeth, if you refuse to walk her down that aisle on the morrow, or if she refuses my hand in marriage ….. I promise that you will be charged with treason", he snarled as his feculent breath swept across her face.

"B-by who's authority?", she whined back as he clenched his fist tighter in her fair hair making her scalp near tear free.

"By _**my**_ authority. Mrs Summers, you have no power to refuse me anything I wish, once you made me Captain of the fleet you handed over _**all**_ authority to me. You are but an old trout with nothing left in this world save for a pretty daughter whom I _**shall**_ marry on the morrow"

"B-but when thy…"

"Quiet, or do you wish to feel my birch as well? _**I**_ am in command of this island fort now, and I will feel naught o'er sentencing you for your crimes", came the malicious rasp of Riley's tongue.

"B-but I have committed no sin"

"You have been smuggling food to sentenced pirates, 'tis enough to charge you with anything I like. As I said, if you or Elizabeth refuse my hand then you will be taken away to the sulphur mines of Jakarta where you will toil in the blistering heat for the rest of your miserable days. Fear not, though the fumes will render you blind within a year…..it will take you another ten to die, you will spend the remainder of your days begging for a death that will not come"

"B-but…"

"But nothing you old hagfish, at the wedding tomorrow both you and Elizabeth will smile with joy …or heaven help me I shall make sure she has a _**very**_ unhappy marriage …..starting with the honeymoon"

"I..I…"

"Guards!", called Riley as he released his fiendish grip before the smartly uniformed men, mainly sons of Ireland, rattled into the room, "Mrs Summers tripped on her gown and hurt her lip, escort her back to her chambers so she may salve her wound….and Joyce, I be a man of my word. If but one thing goes awry during my wedding or if you dare breathe a word of this to Elizabeth, both you and your lovely daughter will regret it for the rest of your wretched lives. Understand?"

"I..I…yes Sir", sniffled Joyce as the Gaelic guards pulled her to her feet. Though she wished to speak her outrage Joyce could now see the breadth of Captain Finn's unmerciful clutch and feared greatly for Buffy's well-being should she speak of her disgust. As she snatched up her lace trimmed bonnet the widow slumped away under armed escort as her guilt thunder'd with terrible echo. For she had handed o'er all command and power to a dandy poltroon like Riley and now Joyce had naught with which to bargain, save for her only child's hand.

For Joyce had unwittingly crowned him victory.

"Now my man, take me to my prize", grinned Riley as the gaoler opened the door of the morning room once more and by the flicker of a dying torch he lead the Captain down the narrow twisting passageways of uneven stones 'til they came to a heavy oaken door at one end of the harrowing dungeon.

Once the creaking heavy door swung open the bloated gaoler covered his brutish hands with thick rags before hauling the brazier into the dark cell placing it on one side sliding the forged iron rod into its red hot coals with a spitting crackle of impending malevolence. As the cell door slammed shut with a low slung thud Riley stood in the quiet and grimaced for the stodgy air was ripe with blood and anguish.

Faith hung in pained silence shackled to the far wall, her arms stretched high above her head with her feet barely touching the dull grey slabs of stone that made up the floor of the grimy room lit only by the spatter of flames from the torch Riley had brought in and placed in the open chest cavity of the rotting corpse to her side. The split o'er Faith's eye had been wrenched open once more, her nose crack'd and teeth well rattled as Mr Harper and Mr Snyder had taken great sport in welting their knuckles 'pon the bound brigand who wallowed in darkness 'tween each visit of Naval men.

Riley's hand, awash with tainted conquest, slid across her bruised face, the purpled canvas having been soiled by trails of dried blood and spittle where manys the soldier had spat their curses on her for a shilling a time, such was the way of Rogues Parade.

Faith was wrenched into consciousness by Riley plunging his thumb into the deep cut on her thigh, her breeches torn from hip to knee, twisting his digit roughly 'til it was near buried up the hilt. But even as she hissed her agonies through her crack'd teeth Faith would not allow this man the pleasure of hearing her call 'pon him for clemency.

"Ah Faith, good to see you be awake", he taunted as he twisted further into the soft sinew of her gaping wound. Her reluctance to beg his mercy time after time irked him no end and, as his face mangled into a scowl, he pluck'd his thumb away as the fallen pirate felt her breath barb and skewer her lungs in ceaseless pain.

"R-Riley….w-when I am free…I-I will take great joy in tearing y-yer face off an' wearing it as a hat", she growled in embittered sounds.

"Threaten all you like, for you will never know freedom again as come noon tomorrow you will be but a feast for crow and maggots. But though your shipmates will swing I think it would be too lenient to allow you such swift an end. If it were not so blasphemous I would take great pleasure in having you crucified, but instead…..after I make you watch every last one of your crew have their necks stretched …..and I will smile as you watch me marry Elizabeth", crowed Riley as his belt wrapped around his soft knuckles to save them from welting.

"H-her _**name**_ is B-Buffy", she wheezed out though each lurch of words and sentiment pained her greatly.

"Quiet", he snapped as his fist slammed hard into her taut stomach tearing the air from her body once more. "After we wed I shall make my new bride watch as you are….well I do not want to ruin the surprise. But save to say that your severed head will make for a fine ornament on a pike outside the main gates of the fort"

"I-I care not what ye say, for y-ye be scum", she gasped in defiance for though her body was near at en end, she would ne'er allow him to break her soul even as his fist slammed into her jaw.

Her eyes narrowed as in the faint glimmer of light she could see the spatter of flames catch 'pon a twist of gold which she knew well.

"T-that be m-my sword"

"Not anymore", Riley grinned back tapping its ornate hilt having wrested it from the soldiers who hauled Buffy aboard his ship.

"I-I _**will**_ be taking it b-back"

"Oh I think not. You know, it would be a great cruelty to let you die without knowing the reason for your downfall, but it would be an even _**greater**_ cruelty to let you know how you helped play a part in this treachery for 'tis a ploy of genius", gloated Mr Finn as he unwound his belt from his fist fresh from beating Faith's face, her blood speckling on the leather strap as her lips split wide.

"And lo, I shall explain, no wait there is too much, let me sum up using words even your rum fuddled, syphilis addled brain can understand. It all started with the death of Governor Summers, but 'twas not Spanish rogues who slaughtered him and his crew….it were Captain Angelus. He left one of his own men on board to tell of the treachery of the Spanish, once word spread to the Admiralty they knew such an act would mean the end of the peace treaty of Utrecht 'tween England and Spain. The Admiralty feared an attack on their homeland and so, out of the thirty ships anchored on this island, twenty were sent back to Portsmouth with haste to protect the south coast 'gainst King Philippe's men. They were confident that New Swaffham be such an impregnable fortress that not even the largest of armadas could e'er hope to capture it. Oh, but afore we go any further I must thank you for killing Captain Angelus too for it saved me the trouble. Aye…..'twas _**I**_ who paid him to kill Governor Summers"

"W-why?"

"Relations 'tween Spain and England are fraught at best, I knew it would take this one act to spark the powderkeg and war were declared, but it were merely the first stage. Once Angelus returned Governor Summers' ring to me I could forge a letter to England bearing his seal demanding that his daughter make haste to New Swaffham for she was to marry. During this time, the power of his office sat with his widow 'til the new Governor be appointed, but I knew the only way Mrs Summers would hand over the reins of control was if her daughter were kidnapped by pirates and she needed help. Namely _**my**_ help. Once she made me Captain of the fleet I had full control of this island, so I sent out the remaining ships to all corners of the seas in search for her, thereby reducing all resistance of this fort keeping but three ships of loyal men by my side"

"Y-you cully o'the nines", Faith snorted in barrelling contempt.

"Oh hold thy tongue or else I will wrench it free. Now where was I? Oh yes, now the entire British and Spanish fleets are spread out over the Atlantic and ready for war, there is nothing to stop the three French vessels arriving tomorrow with o'er two hundred soldiers and marines to take this fort unanswered and make it theirs for there is no-one to stop them now, we will open the fort gates for them and strike the Union Jack from our towers with glee. From here they can strike out and destroy the whole British and Spanish Navies in these waters while they amass their invasion fleet. Aye, the French will strike the New World with not a single ship to stop them, they will drive the British and Spanish out and soon King Louis' empire will stretch beyond the sea, the tricolore will fly o'er Washington and the native tongue of America will be en Francais. With the Spain and England at war they will rally to defend their homelands with neither the ships nor the men to spare to defend the colonies leaving it wide open for the French to snatch it away"

"B-but what do you g-gain?", said Faith around a splutter of blood.

"Not long ago I were but a Captain of a ship, now I be a newly gazetted commander o' this island fort, soon I will be made Governor of the _**whole**_ Carribbean. Something you have played no small part in", glowered Riley as he unfurled his foul destiny.

"M-me? How?"

"Word spread amongst the islands that you had taken my bride-to-be, though Angelus had a fearsome repute he is little compared to your legend in the Spanish Main. Not just for your bloody deeds but your heathen ways with the ladies, once this were common fact every single ship in these waters loyal to the British rallied to our hunt to bring you to your knees afore you twisted her soul into sinning. I sent them all north and south leaving a gaping stretch o' water where the French can now sail in undetected with not a shot fired as they take New Swaffham. Once the French spearhead of ships arrives from Martinique and takes command of this fortress they can strike out and wrest control of every harbour in these waters from both Spanish and British hands, when the rest of the Southern fleet, eighteen warships and thirty transport vessels bearing over three thousand men, arrives within a month and the armada builds up here then no other Navy can possibly oppose us. Hispaniola and Portobello will fall within a week and we will control the sugar trading routes levying a huge tax 'pon every country who deems to trade in the white gold. This be about money as much as it is power"

"N-nay, though yer men be swine, t-they still be loyal to their King. T-they will ne'er b-bow 'neath the colors o' France"

"How foolish do you think I be? 'Tis why I crewed my ship with Irishmen. Though the Irish have little love for the French, they despise the British more and can be paid handsomely for taking up arms with anyone 'gainst the British. And I have the loyalty of Mr Langton's ship too for Crown Prince Jean-Pierre married the Portuguese infanta thereby creating an alliance 'tween France and Portugal. 'Tis why I took Mr Langton as my aide and sacrificed the HMS Jericho to your prow to rid us o' the men still loyal to the King of England, many of them are in the sickbay. The rest in chains for reasons they know not"

"Y-ye think it will be that easy?"

"Aye, and now we know of the location of the Hellmouth, we can sail in with all haste and burn the town to cinders and slaughter all we find. Every pirate ship in these waters will be destroyed. Our power will not be matched"

"S-so…this was ne'er about Buffy"

"Nay, but her being alive is a delightful bonus for tomorrow night I will take her in my chamber …..whether she wishes to or not", glowered Riley in utter triumph.

"O'er my dead b-body", Faith snarled back as a furious mist blackened her bloodshot eyes.

"Come the morrow that will not be a problem, for I wish you alive so you can watched your few friends dance in the air before a pitiless crowd. And as I said, you can have the exquisite joy of watching me wed Elizabeth …..'tis the only reason you are still alive"

"I-I….", the pirate coughed as she watched Riley step away and wrench the wrought iron from the glow of coals in the brazier. His lips twisted into a cruel ghost of a smile borne of misanthropy, blowing on the tip of the rod Riley slowly crossed the room delighting in the fearful grasping of Faith's fists as she felt the burning iron pass o'er her skin as if hunting for resting place.

Her teeth near shattered with its clenching as the red hot branding iron pressed into her forearm forever marking her with the letters 'FT', the flesh sizzled and pucker'd filling the air with its foul aroma of burning skin. Riley's hands shook as he leaned in putting all his weight behind the searing metal as if he wished to burn the letter into her very bones.

"What be wrong Faith? Come on, scream your pains and I might make your death easier", he mocked seeing her eyes screw into folds of skin and bruise.

"I-I will ne'er s-s-scream for ye", panted Faith with staggered breath of agonised roots.

"Now you are marked unto death with being a 'Fugitive Traitor', shame you will not able to wear it for long. But I see you hold your pains well, but what of the pains of others?", sneered Riley throwing the iron rod down with a clatter of sparks as he found her mettle to be most resilient to pains o' the flesh. But, after Anya had spilled forth the secrets of her Captain, he knew another way to unveil his tortures 'pon the pirate queen.

"W-what do y-ye…mean?"

"You know, 'pon first glance I did not recognise the girl as it had been a few years since last we met. It were her terrored trembling's when I went into their cell that made me think hard to recall her face ….though it were not her face I remember. Egad, I ne'er thought she would have survived the beating after we ripped her well and left her for dead"

"Y-y-ye….", the ailing buccaneer wheezed in horror and a coiling twist of unbridled anger for she was indeed trapped in the malicious throes of a tyrant.

"Aye, the girl Dawn…'twas _**I**_ who burst the dams of her womanhood and tore her flower away"

"Y-ye did this to Dawn? Ye bastard….ye fuckin' bastard raped a child an' left her for dead! I'm goin' to tear ye t'pieces!", screamed Faith as she hauled at the irons holding her arms and legs tight to the wall, her pain swept away as she clenched under a torture even hell not devise.

"Shut up", he shouted as his thick wooden stick crack'd her on the noggin near knocking all sense from her. "I were but a midshipman at the time and Vice Admiral Wirth were but a Captain, but we made great sport of her innocent flesh. 'Tis why I have decided she might not swing after all …..mayhaps I shall use the girl you think of as sister as concubine 'pon my ship. Though she be not much more than thirteen I think she still be enough to make merry with my men, and thanks to me she is already well-versed in the ways of a whore. By sundown on the morrow she will be well stretched 'til she begs for death, but oh my….. she cannot", chuckled Riley wallowing in his triumph.

"I….be…..goin'….to….kill …you….Riley", Faith said around her wrathful gasps as he raised the torch and reached for the door.

"I would like to see you try", he sneered back as he slammed the heavy wooden door of the cell letting Faith stew in her misery and pain. Her skin roasting with its branding and her heart near severed at the truth of Dawn's past, but as the coals of the brazier began to die Faith would simmer in darkened torment once more. Her tongue wished to scream her pains and rage but she knew well 'twould only seal Riley's victory, so she turned her tear brimmed eyes to a star she could not spy and prayed unto her dear departed father for vengeance. A vengeance she knew in her heart, would ne'er be bestowed 'pon Captain Finn.

As Riley wiped his hands on the rag offered forth by the gaoler he hushed the barrel chested Mongol into silence as his ears pricked 'pon the converse of the main cell, he slipped along the wall unseen 'til he could hear the words of the condemned.

"But Mr Gunn", said Warren as his blotched lips crunched into the last crust of bread gifted unto him by Mrs Summers, "Ye ne'er mentioned such notions afore"

"And why should I? I know most of ye think I were snatched from a heathen village o' mud and sacrifice, but the truth be far removed. I have oft been called barbarian …..that much be true. For I be from the Barbary Coast which be where the word comes from such is Christendom's attempt to portray us as Godless vermin. In the time of my father's father the Ottoman empire stretched from the straits of Gibraltar, all along the north coast of Africa to Turkey, but the encroach o' Europe had stripped us of much but the city of Tunis were still to most powerful fort town in the Mediterranean and the dey had the whole sea in his hand", said Mr Gunn refusing the last morsels of food insisting that Dawn should try to eat but a bite.

"But where do ye come into it?"

"The dey of Tunis, Sultan Kassan Kussa, though he be a bloated wretch with a beard of pluming red and a fondness for hashish, though he were the figure o' authority in the town it were the ocak, the Turkish speaking janissary elite, who had the real power … an' I were one of 'em."

"And what, pray tell, be a janissary?"

"The private troops who worked for the Ottoman Sultan of Tunis as household protectors an' bodyguards. My father were a janissary afore me an' since I could first crawl I had either musket or blade in my hand, why do you think I am such a fine shot? I grew up in the busiest port o' the sea, 'tis why I speak English and the tongue o' the Turk as pirates from many distant shores came to trade in the town. Whether it be silks an' poppy juice or slave's fresh pluck'd from Ireland to Genoa, those who sailed 'neath a skulled flag of defiance could find safe harbour in Tunis"

"An' just like that ye were made a guard?", asked Warren as his thumbless hands shivered in the cold chamber of awaited death.

"Nay, when I reached of age the Grand Hizir had taken El Penon in the mouth of Algiers an' threatened Tunis with its close reach, it enraged Kassan Kussa so he ordered his corsairs to raid an' harangue the Hizir's ships at every opportunity. It were then that I made my repute as a gunner o' finest aim for with the shallow draughts o' the ships we could come close t'the shores to escape pursuers or launch attacks on his holds.", said Mr Gunn as he peeled away the bandage which Mrs Summers had pressed to his wounds and stared with blanked eye at the knitting of flesh 'neath its cloth sealing.

"Ye were a fine seamen too?"

"Aye, the corsair be faster and more manoeuvrable than any sailing ship in those waters, with a clean bottom an' a fresh crew it could cover two nautical miles in twenty minutes, only if it had a full load of three men at each of the twenty four oars though. Its slender prow were reinforced with a raised iron beak an' we could close in at alarming speed an' ram any ship friendly to the Hizir. Once we struck their timbers we used the iron beak as a boarding plank and manys the fiend who fell t'my blades. Kassan Kussa were so grateful that I were raised to his personal guard, but 'tis then that I fell"

"How?"

"'Twas once I were encamped in his palace that I felt the decrees o' my life burn away to ash, for I did meet his fifth wife, Jasmine. Her eyes held such beauty that one glance could topple an empire, at first we merely did speak when I taught her to handle a flintlock in secret but soon our meets were in the dey's own chambers. When the Sultan were parleying with Captain's o' piracy the great feasts would last for two days an' nights, a blaze o' gluttony and drunkenness did consume them whole. It were in these times that I would steal away to her arms for she had a grasp on my heart that five and twenty oxen could not wrest free. We found such love and pleasures despite the terrible punishments awaiting me for layin' a hand on the Sultans property, for befouling her in such a way. But when we kissed it were as if Allah had blessed our touches, though we knew it were sin in our midnight caress our love did blossom 'til we could not live without t'other. 'Twas then that we decided to flee and find our freedom, but afore I could find a ship without rousing suspicion we were found out"

"How?", asked another prisoner who knew Mr Gunn by repute alone, but found his tale no less captivating.

"It were when Captain M'Fashnik had taken great monies from the dey to raid El Penon, he had sailed into the Hizir's port an' torched many a ship with firepikes an' the rattle o' cannon, an' his return coincided with the dey taking his eighth wife. But the Sultan could not wait to take his new bride an' so returned to his chambers early, 'twas how he found us. Jasmine an' me in the lock o' passion"

"Bedad! So what 'appened?"

"I grew up in Tunis an' had oft seen men hang'd for their crimes, swingin' by their necks 'til three high tides had washed o'er them, then they were sold for dissection or tarred and caged in gibbets to rot in the mouths o' the docks to serve as fair warning t'others. But such leniency were not for the likes of me, I knew the dey would unleash his cruellest punishment 'pon me…..Scaphism"

"What the devil is that?"

"It were a punishment taken from ancient Persia an' most sadistic in the extreme. The victim were placed in a boat with another boat, already bored with holes, on top t'seal him in, then the victim be force-fed milk an' honey an' slathered in the mixture. This would make him loose his bowels and be left to stew in it causing further sickness. The victim would be floated out to the center of a lake and left as flies and wasps would be drawn by the sweet scents and feast on the screamin' victim. Every few days the log would be pulled in an' the victim force-fed again afore bein' pushed out once more as they died in agony slowly bein' eaten alive"

"Gadzooks!", squealed the floppy haired prisoner who seemed enveloped in the tale.

"Aye, but Jasmine begged for my life, she called out her love unto me. But the dey, despite his demand for evil vengeance, thought it a crueller punishment to sell us both into slavery. So we would toil away in pain for years knowing that t'other suffered in chains too, I were shackled to oars in a Turkish dhow an' I swore my escape to find my beloved, but three months later when we were anchored off Carthage I were told how Jasmine died of fever as a whore in the courts o' Spain. After that I cared not what fate fell 'pon me for my heart were snuffed out, I know not how much more time passed afore we were raided by The Slayer. I fought with lion's rage an' Faith were mightily impressed an' made me of her crew. That day I knew Allah had saved me for a reason, to sail with these curs and cut-throats an' though I know my Jasmine to be….."

"Oh shut yer luff, ye scand'rer", scoffed a prisoner whose shackles rattled heavy for she still burned with rage at being captured by the Navy near a month ago and left to rot in the dank confines of the cell.

"What?", snorted back Mr Gunn staring intently at the irked Nubian woman.

"Oh ignore her", said the floppy haired man, "Isis just be out o' sorts that ye be takin' her huzzah. Ye see, we are all to hang on the morrow but, sorry to say my friends, ye of The Slayer be the main attraction"

"And why be ye here?", asked Warren with squinted eye to the unknown man.

"Isis and me were snared for smugglin'. Guns, rum, wanted felons, it mattered not to us as our ship were small but swift and…."

"It be _**yer**_ fault we were caught Topher, for if ye were not such a weasily….", snarled Isis burning her eyes into his as he did flinch his boyish form at her scurl.

"Quiet, all of you!", roared Captain Finn with a scratchy rasp as he nodded to the gaoler who rattled his keys afore swinging open the creaking iron door. Riley stepped in to the filthy cell which housed the horde of villains and vagabonds who would meet their fate come the morrow.

He stood proud as he looked down at the pirates, thieves and beggars whom he had gathered for the momentous day approaching. As if Captain Finn were judge and executioner, their swinging bodies would be his gift unto the approaching French spearhead whose trio of ships crept ever closer on the lap of the tides. Riley's eyes flitted into the narrow light from rogue to rogue 'til he spied the youngling he sought.

"What be the matter Dawn? Cat got your tongue?", mocked Riley as the young girl shivered in terror whilst he crouched by her bearing evil on his tongue. Her body paralyzed seeing the cruel monster who had torn her at such a tender age, his cold hand stroked o'er her forehead as her tears ran down her soft cheeks.

"Be this your monkey?", asked Riley as he grabbed the thin twist of leather round Wesley's waist and pulled him 'til the one eared primate was in his hands waving its small furry arms in panic.

Dawn just slowly nodded as, though she were a raging dervish in battle, now she had once more scoured her eyes with Riley's presence she felt fear like she had ne'er hoped to feel again.

"You know Dawn….. 'twould be a shame to send you to thy grave alone", smirked Riley as he took the monkey's jabbering form in his hands and, without flinch or mercy, snapped his neck with a crack that echoed around the stone lined cell.

"Ye bastard!", roared Mr Gunn as he hauled his chains in a furious rattle snapping to his aching feet but his heavy irons would allow no more than a yard of pull, his clenching hands far from the smirking Captain.

Riley said no more as he shook his head and threw the dead monkey into the arms of Dawn who sobbed dryly as she held his tiny still body to her battered face. His soft fur brushing her slivering tears as Wesley's limp and lifeless slumped in her pitiful grasp, his heart now stilled and his antics silenced.

As Riley stepped back out of the cell his breath coiled with the rasp of damnation as the iron door clanked shut once more. His pompous foul gait carried him away as he had no more time for pleasured pastimes this day for he had much work to finish afore the sunrise.

A day when the buccaneers would meet their end.

A day when his bride would scream as he plunder'd her maidenhead without pity.

A day when the fort would fall and spark the new empire of France.

"Oyez, oyez", called the plumpened town crier as his brass bell rang throughout the streets of New Swaffham now darkened by the fall of night, his deep bellowing voice carrying his words all the way up to Buffy's lofty chamber. "Praise be to the heroic Captain Finn who single handedly captured the foul rogue of a pirate known as Captain Faith Lehane"

Buffy caught her sobs from escaping as the words did wend their way to her ears with heart clenching intent, she looked across her chamber to see her beautiful silk wedding gown, its finely stitched bodice and delicate veil lay still on her bed as if to mock her. For she knew it were but a shroud to the life she had finally unearthed but would know no more. 'Twould be what she would wear as she began her life sentence.

The sound of saw and hammer ringing out their trade had continued through the day as Buffy could hear the gallows being built. Faith had sworn that she would die by the sword of a foe than to be hang'd like a dog in chains, but now a cowl of impending doom was cast o'er the pirate who had given her life and liberty for Buffy.

"For high treason against his most illustrious majesty King George, with no fear of God in her blackened heart, seduced by the devil she hath failed in her due obedience to the King, Faith Lehane's malicious and traitorous ways are to serve as example to the glorious empire for after she is flogged 'til nary an inch of her skin is left untorn…. she is to be hung, drawn and quartered immediately after the wedding of the heroic Captain Finn and Miss Elizabeth Summers. God save the King, and God bless Captain Finn"

"No", gasped Buffy as her fingers, most tremulous with fraught, touched at her dry lips crack'd from her sorrow and stinging as her salty tears washed into their deep chevrons.

She had feared the time when the execution would finally be announced, her heart gnawed at the callous words filling her ears for she knew not what to do. Aboard the HMS Initiative on their slow return to New Swaffham Riley had poured forth his threats of unimaginable torture he would bestow 'pon Faith if Buffy dared to visit her or if she should tell her mother anything other than what he told her to, punctuating his cruel intent with the swift slash of his birching rod. Promises of harshness to Joyce also soon came if Buffy should act like anything less than the wife he expected her to be, meek, polite, and above all, obedient to his word for he now saw himself as her Lord and Master.

'Pon arrival in the fort Joyce had wept her gratitude and embraced her daughter for the first time in years, the joy of her mother could not be curtailed by Buffy's enforced tale of harsh cruelty at the hands of the pirates who had treated her so well. The young lady had bled her lies well into the bosom of her mother as they sat at length in her new chamber behind the impregnable walls of the fortress where she was now to live. Captain Finn, holding all the cards o'er Buffy, insisted that she and her mother no longer resided in the Governor's mansion as, he explained to the widowed woman, Buffy had been pluck'd from their safety once and 'til they were wed he feared for any buccaneers to take her once more for ransom.

So under lock and key the women now remained.

But in the last two dusks Buffy could not, for fear of Faith's suffering, tell her mother of her true ordeals, of the sights she had witnessed, and, more importantly, the unearthing of her hearts true desires. Though her skin was now freshened and her matted hair a lush cascade of golden silk, the sweeping softness and subtle beauty of her new gown irked her so as it choked the freedom she had just discovered. As Buffy stood overlooking the courtyard where Irish dragoons drilled in rattling synchronicity around the large wooden gallows, she felt as if the finery of her clothing were as shackles to her soul.

The embroidery her mother had encouraged her to stitch lay in a heap of tangled threads and broken wood for it grieved Buffy most furiously that the woman who held her heart languished in torment in the dark depths of the gaol.

The intricately carved mahogany door creaked open and Buffy, clad in naught but her long and flowing nightgown, sighed through her misery soaked breath for she had ordered the maid Kendra to leave her alone. As the door shut with a gentle thud Buffy could not even stir her spirits enough to raise her head as she wished not for the girl to enter her chamber with a pan of coals to warm her bed for the Lady knew the coldness of her spirit could not thaw as easy.

"I-I said to leave me alone", Buffy sniffled as, with each grain of sand slithering through the hour glass with damnable precision, she could feel her heart clenching in agonised rhythms as the hour of her end approached. Though Buffy would not be freed from this mortal coil, to wed Captain Finn and watch the execution of Faith would be as death for her too.

"Are you sure, Miss Buffy?", came the soft and sweet voice which made the Lady's head snap up violently as she felt her eyes burn with a whirl of hope she had thought snuffed out.

"W-Willow?"

"Your eyes deceive you not…..'tis I", smiled the redhead as she and her Mistress lunged into each other's arms and wept, the warmth and joy of their simple embrace was enough to be as kindling to Buffy's heart which had lay as dying embers since her return home.

"I-I cannot believe it…..oh, my sweet Will…..I-I hath prayed for…..oh Will", cried Buffy as her thin arms squeezed the full breasted redhead who ushered forth her own tears of joy.

"Shhh, Miss Buffy. All will be well now", said Willow as she loosened her embrace staring into the hazel eyes of Buffy which now sparkled behind the dull and sullen wash which had cast all light and life from them.

"Will….I-I thought you lost…", sobbed Buffy as she pulled the maid to perch on the edge of her bed casting back the eiderdown which Joyce, in her many hours of solitude, had stitched with such tender care the sight of frolicking swans in the gaze of an enchanting castle as if torn from faerytale.

"Miss Buffy, calm yourself and I will tell you all", said Willow as she pulled forth a simple handkerchief of woven cotton and dabbed the tears from her Mistress' face whilst her smile soothed the tormented lady. The maid smoothed down the pristine white pinafore of her uniform, its drab grey calico hue and high ruffled collar seemed not to dull the vibrancy now enshrouding Willow.

"So…how did you….what did…I do not…."

"Shhh, Miss. Let me start from whence you saw me last, when the ship exploded Kennedy, Lorne and I were blown into the waves, though we be singed the waves doused us well. But once in the water, though we were greatly rattled, we could not return unto the ship so, despite Kennedy's protests, we made for shore. Mr Lorne was greatly wounded but I tended him well and as we watched the ships gasp for life young Jonathan blustered ashore too as Faith had ordered him to abandon ship, though he felt most ashamed once he realised he be the only one to heed her command …. as we watched the ships turn unto matchwood …..I-I know not what consumed me, as if a sudden valour had plumed within me seeing Ken drown in her sorrows"

"Willow, you doth babble"

"Oh, I am sorry but you wished to know all", said Willow as she fiddled with her white mob cap which seemed not to suit her anymore.

"Oh…yes…pray continue"

"We saw you and Faith being dragged aboard the Naval ships and though Kennedy were incensed to fight I made her see sense that she could offer no rescue or salvation for we needed to help Lorne, and I were no fighter. As we snaked into the cover of the undergrowth 'twas then that the leper fellow happened upon us, I were most scared of him 'pon first sight but he really be quite the jolly fellow, it be so sad that such a disease lingers within…."

"Willow, please"

"Oh Sorry. But he said that 'pon hearing the first blasts of the battle he had sent the witch to safety within the quicksand of the mangroves where only those who know where to tread could e'er venture. Once night fell he took us to the far side of the island where a small fishing boat lay hidden, thankfully with the Naval ships so crippled we could easily catch up with them and we sailed with haste 'til we reached New Swaffham anchoring on a remote shore 'til night fell once more and we could steal away into town. We be hidden away in a smithy by the docks, though it be small we are safe"

"How so?", gushed Buffy in admiration and giddy joy at seeing her beloved friend again.

"The bushy faced smith there, a Mr Davis, owes much to Faith for it were she who introduced him to his wife, Carrie. They are kind and humble folk but risk much for keeping us"

"But how did you get inside the walls of the fort?", enthused Buffy feeling her anguish lessen at her friends flow of words.

"I sneaked in at dusk through the gates amidst the throng of servants and hawkers readying for the wedding. Though my heart thundered like stampeding horses and my breath pained to sup as I passed the guards they questioned me not, oh Miss, I have ne'er felt so rushed. I-I must confess, I be ashamed of the terrors I felt in the battle…"

"Willow, there is naught to be ashamed of my dear sweet friend", soothed Buffy as she rubbed the maid's hands with her warm palms.

"Thankyou Miss, but I demand of myself to make amends. Anyway, once in the fort I could steal away with a maid's uniform and come see you as none on this island, apart from Mr Snyder and your mother, know of me"

"You know, Mother wept so 'pon hearing of your death, I…I had to tell her it were pirates who slaughtered you. But I could see in her eyes she believed me not, though no words hath passed our lips, I think she knows that Mr Finn be a most foul villain. Oh Will what am I to do? I despise Mr Finn for he be as cruel a monster as e'er I have encountered, but if I do not take his hand in marriage t-then he has promised such agonies 'pon both Mother and Faith"

"Then we must do all we can", said Willow with firm nod and a heart full of gusto.

"Will? What be you saying?"

"Miss Buffy, if your heart feels for Faith the same way mine does for Kennedy, then it would grieve me always if I did not do all I could to save you both. In the battle I was terrored in ways I ne'er thought possible but now I have calmed, I have sworn unto the Lord to help me right my failings"

"Really?"

"Miss Buffy, I have failed you in the face of true trial, and it will not happen again. We shall prevail and though the peril be great, what would you feel for the rest of your days if you stood idle as Faith and the others perished?"

"Willow, the risk be too high. I cannot ask you of such things", said Buffy as she caught the lingering aroma of gin 'pon the redheads breath.

"Buffy, please. There is little time", pressed the maid with strange courage as she pulled her Mistress to her bare feet.

"Willow", said Buffy started in shock at the sudden gallant notions of the once timid maid, "What happened unto thee? You seem to be….glowing?"

"Oh….that", said the redhead with rosying cheek.

"Do tell", said Buffy grasping her friends hands well.

"L-last night…when I did share a cot with Kennedy….w-we kissed…a-a-and….I let Ken slip h-her fingers twixt my bloomers….a-and…."

"Willow!", gasped Buffy but she saw not the scourge of shame 'pon Willow's face, instead her countenance flourished with a softened warm radiance

"I-I know…I have been most misgiving of such loving attentions…but Miss….I ne'er knew such exquisite pleasures could erupt in me so. I-I knew it were wrong…..b-but how could such joys be deemed as sin? Oh Miss, if e'er you had known such a touch…", gushed the redhead with a fuddled grin.

"Will, I-I had no idea such….and you….oh my…."

"Aye, though I have little knowledge of the ways of love I feel it be can nothing else. My heart belongs to her and no other", said Willow with a purge of truth bellowing her spirit to vivacious degree, "And it would wound Ken always if we did naught to save Faith and the others"

"Willow, there is nothing we can do. I cannot even see Faith to tell her…", sighed Buffy with tainted saddened hiss.

"Tell her what?"

"The truth…that I…..my heart doth….."

"Buffy, you _**will**_ tell her", said Willow with a smile to near split her face in twain.

"But I wish not to say such things to her grave", said Buffy sadly as her lip did tremble.

"Nay, you shall speak unto her in life…..for we have a plan!", said Willow with a spritely bound as she raised up her petticoats and pulled loose the drawstrings around her waist letting a rough hessian sack fall from 'tween her legs on to the finely woven Persian rug by the warm hearth.

"Willow, what be….oh…", said Buffy as she opened the sack and stared on at its neatly folded contents.

"Kennedy told me of this ruse they made in Nassau, but 'twill not work here for they be in a gaol deep inside a fort brimming with near a hundred well-armed men but I think 'twill be enough for you to see Faith but once. The notion bristled within me as soon as I happened upon the laundry room where the maids toiled and so I snatched up clothing and sneaked away with it well hidden"

"And Kennedy thought this be a good idea?", said Buffy holding up the tunic.

"Oh she was most aggrieved that I desired to breach the walls and run such risks to find you but my face was most resolved, she could not resist my mettle", said Willow with a hearty nod making the Lady smile softly.

As the sand in the hourglass poured steady Buffy soon, with the swift help of her maid, found herself staring at a reflection she knew not. From her golden locks pinned up high 'neath the curve of the pointed Naval hat sitting jauntily 'pon her crown to the gleaming brass buckles on her shining brogues, it all felt most strange on her.

"Will….this will not work", said Buffy as the maid adjusted the white stockings leading into the ivory knee breeches hugging the Lady's legs well.

"Aye, it will", said Willow moving the golden epaulettes on the sharp pointed shoulders 'til they hung with regimental precision.

"R-really?", replied Buffy as she fidgeted with the high stiff collar of the long blue coat of the uniform firmly pressing up into her neck.

"Yes it will, Miss Buffy. You look like any fifteen year old Petty Officer fresh taken to sea. I have even seen some much younger than that drilling out in the courtyard. Now Kennedy said this gaol is much like any other and for the passing of coin one can sally forth and mock the prisoners in the Rogues Parade. Now we must hurry afore Captain Finn or his men discover our deceit"

"Willow, you seem so different…when last I saw you….", said Buffy in surprise at the maids stouted will.

"Aye, I know I was a cowering wretch but having seen the depths of Kennedy's sorrow I know she needeth me to find my courage and so I set my resolve ….a-also I had a tot or two of grog …though I still quake like an infant 'neath the surface", the redhead admitted.

"But my sweet friend…..", said Buffy as doubt clouded her most foully.

"Nay, Miss. This be not the time for baulking. Just tell me, how much has Faith risked for you?"

"E-everything"

"And how much are you willing to risk for her?" asked the maid with a quirk of the brow.

Buffy needed no reply for though she feared the consequences she needed to see Faith, if even only to say her farewells.

"In this disguise you can go see her, now take your coin-purse and remember to speak in manly tones or else you will be discovered. Now you must move swift for you have little time", hurried the maid as she hauled up the leather stock around her Mistress neck 'til it stood firm making Buffy's neck stretch well and raise her head as if pompous tides had washed her spirit.

But before any further words could unravel the chamber door swung open with a muted groan. The thin shafts of light from the glow of the candles struck the figure standing tall in the doorframe. As the gaze of the two young ladies struck the silhouette they gasped as the light air was clouded in an instant by the question firing across the room at them.

"What on earth is going on?"


	15. Chapter 15

_**(Big thanks to BuffynFaithfan, Naomi05, FireTigerLily, DushkuHasDibs Cmiller, DragonWriter17, Lilly, sinhound, squeewockle, Aznphoenix95, Rioshix, SpySkater, CiliaReturning and anyone else who's swung past with a read or review. You all rock and you know it :)**_

"You Sir! How dare you enter a lady's chamber, what be you doing here?", Joyce said, her tongue lashing forth as if woven with barbed leather and searching for skin to flay, her shock crowned her for ne'er did she think that a gentleman would cock such a snook to manners and etiquette and sally into her darling child's room without a suitable chaperone.

"Mother…please", said the uniformed Buffy in hissing reply as she scampered with haste across the plush confines of what was, in damnable essence, her gilded cage.

"B-Buffy? W-why on earth be you dressed like…W-Willow? Saints preserve us ….. b-be that really you?", said the flabbergasted Joyce as she stepped forward staring in wide eyed disbelief at the pretty maid who was fast feeling the bolster of her spirit, courtesy of a head fuddling tot of grog, withering away.

"Y-yes Ma'am…..'tis I", replied Willow and bobbed into a shallow respect laden curtsy but before she could muster further words she felt the warm embrace of Joyce wrap round her well.

"Oh Willow…..I thought you lost….oh my dear child", said the widow around a rasp weighted gravely with a fresh spill of tears.

"No Ma'am….I were merely…", the redhead gasped under the squeeze of the embrace which snared her ribs tighter than the lung purging pull of any whale boned corsetry.

"Oh sweetheart, if fills me with such joy to know you be safe and well", blustered Joyce as her ample bosom rattled with tears. The humble maid's eyes widened 'pon feeling the tender kisses dance across her flushing cheek with kindness' whim.

"Mother….what be you doing?", Buffy asked with owlish eyes seeing the warm affection showered 'pon her beloved friend fresh wrenched from mourning's cove.

"I…oh...sorry…", sniffled Joyce as she pulled free and cupped the crimson cheek of the young redhead who seemed to have a new found buoyancy to her spirit. "But Buffy, what be you doing dressed as a sailor boy?"

"Please Mother, I hath little time to explain but… w-what I told you of the pirate rogue ….of her cruelty and slaughter of innocents …w-what if I told you it were naught but lies?", said Buffy shyly as she fidgeted with awkward posing for she had seldom uttered falsehoods to her kin before.

"Then why did you weave them so?", asked the widow who, under the brutish threat of Mr Finn, had ceased to shroud herself in black and now bore brighter hues to express her gaiety.

"F-for I feared what consequences my truths would bring. I-I be so sorry Mother …..I ne'er wished to speak in wick'd rhymes but …..the yarns I spun about being on the ship with the scallywags …..none of it were true"

"I thought as much"

"H-how did you know?", said Buffy with lips quivered in shocks ghostly wake.

"A mother always knows, my darling child. You bore the same mask of untruths when you set torch to the barn on the plantation", smiled Joyce as put fingertips to jaw and raised Buffy's gaze 'til it met her own and there, in the meeting of softened orbs, a mother and child were reconciled.

"B-but you do not know this….. that Faith be a great and kindly soul who hath given her all, even her life, in defence of me. I-I feel my heart doth resound for her, as if seraph's stitch hath bound my spirit unto hers a-and…..", Buffy stammered as she watched her mother's weary face take on an ashen pall.

"Buffy!", squealed Joyce with uncertain timbre, "Y-you mean to say …..you ….you h-have been… tipping the velvet …with a _**pirate**_?"

"Mother …..please. I beg of thee to think no less of me but I cannot deny my want any longer. S-she hath my heart and I ne'er wish to let her grasp slip, I ne'er wish to hurt you with my deeds Mother …but she is my heart's true desire …I wish not to marry that vile knave Mr Finn …"

"W-why did you not say something afore?", said Joyce as composure threatened to loose from its foundation stones.

"F-for Mr Finn hath promised to visit such tortures 'pon you if I do not", sobbed Buffy as she felt her mother's warm embrace stout her fraying and haggard nerve. "I w-wished to tell you earlier but with all hope lost I could do n-naught but hold my tongue so his b-birching rod would stay idle once more"

"Shhh, my darling. I wish not for you to feel such sorrows, I w-wish…..", cooed Joyce as if her daughter still be swathed in swaddling clothes.

"M-Mr Finn be as cruel a scoundrel as e'er I have heard of, worse than any cur o'the seas …but what else can I do but take his hand?", she wailed with timid scurl into her mother's bosom, the delicate lace edging of the décolletage on the widows voluminous scarlet gown ruffling Buffy's button nose.

"Buffy….I-I know he be naught but foul swine", said Joyce hoping her touch of rouge would cover the mark left by Riley's swift hand.

"Y-you do?", said Buffy in surprise raising her forlorn eyes unto her mother's kindly gaze.

"Yes", said Joyce pulling her daughter from her arms and stared on with shaky smile infused with gentle warmth, "Buffy…. tell me ….do you honestly , with hand 'pon bless'd psalm, truly feel that way about this pirate wretch in irons"

"Mother, she is no wretch. She is Empress o'the seas a-and….she commands my helm, and aye, I would swear unto all the Apostles who prance by St Peter's Gate….. Faith be the one whose heart I wish to embrace", sniffled Buffy as her eyes flushed with a decadent sparkle 'pon speaking her want.

"Buffy…I-I…", said Joyce as she supped a stout breath to quash her sorrow ridden fears, "Though 'tis not the love I hath wished for you ….. I would rather see you in the arms of a pirate queen than in the arms of Mr Finn, oh he be a man who needs to feel the lash o'justice"

"Y-you mean?"

"Yes sweetheart…. you should ne'er deny your hearts true path", smiled Joyce with tepid lips betraying her ache of spirit.

"B-but what about that…she i-is a…._**she**_?", asked Buffy with lip near pierced by ivory tooth.

"I….I know I should forbid you to think such things…. to feel this way… but since when did you e'er do something you wished not to, besides…. your father, God rest his soul, wished you naught but every happiness in this world….so if this Faith brings you such tidings …..then go to her, I shall mind watch so your ploy not be discovered"

"Mother …I…I know not what to say", replied Buffy bearing a glowing smile which could enchant the Pontiff unto sin.

"Buffy, if you can….take to a ship with her, flee and ne'er turn back. Leave now and think of me no more", said Joyce fighting back her tears for though she be most cheered to have Buffy return unto her embrace, she could not bear to think of the hardships Mr Finn would unfurl on her daughter in his cruelty. She sniffled well as she smoothed down the wide white turned back lapels of the Naval coat holding firm to the body of Buffy and fluffed at the golden epaulettes.

"Nay Mother, my heart could not bear to leave you to endure such miseries on my account. It would haunt me all my days to sup 'pon the sweet nectar of freedom while you suffered so"

"My dear Buffy, I am your mother so please, for once in your life, do as I say", Joyce said with insistent tone as Buffy took her hands into her own.

"Nay, I cannot…. I _**will**_ not leave without you….or Faith. But I fear she be too well guarded to make our escape, I-I must see her…..for if all hope be truly lost….I must at least say my farewells. B-but my heart doth sing with her melody, thought I wished it not to be true I can deny it no longer. My heart be sweetened on Faith and I …."

"Buffy, you should be telling _**her**_ all this"

"B-but do you….can you truly accept this of me", Buffy said with tremulous words for her heart would shatter if her Mother's love were to perish in pursuit of her own happiness.

"I…well not exactly….b-but is it not written in the Good Book '_Accept one another then, just as Christ accepted you'_, if the good Lord ordained love without judgement then who be I to judge another for feeling the truth of their heart", smiled Joyce as she stroked her daughter face.

"But what if…"

"If any should come a knocking I will claim ladies intimacies need attending", said Joyce with a wry wrinkle of the brow.

"But I…"

"Just go my darling for I ne'er had the chance to say farewell to your father, though my choice of words to him may be different now", said Joyce as Buffy hugged her bodice tightly.

"Huh?", said the uniformed woman with a quarry.

"Oh nevermind, but Buffy…..go to the one you wish to be with….go ….with my blessing"

"Thankyou Mother….I love you"

"I love you too, my darling child", smiled Joyce with tightened lips to dam her flow of tears. "But Buffy, I hope you know what you be doing running such a risk"

"Mother, Faith hath risked so much for me 'twould be the act of a brigand not to best my fears for her"

"Very well, though I must admit, you do look somewhat mirthsome dressed as you are. I do believe you could well pass muster as a fifteen year old boy, a tad cherubic mayhaps…but such a fine uniform be most becoming on you"

"Mother", said Buffy with a slight flush of her cheeks.

"Sorry", said Joyce with a fussing as she straightened Buffy's Naval hat and fluffed at the golden braiding hanging limply from the sharply cut shoulders of the knee length coat.

"Now we must hurry, come along Willow", wisped Buffy in a whirl of regimental colours and gleaming brass.

"Me?", squawked the maid whose fingers twisted well into the stark white pinafore, knotting its edging of cheap lace spun by the nimble fingered children of the workhouses of Beaufort.

"Yes you", replied Buffy with blankened face despoiled by jewel sparked eyes.

"Why me?"

"'Twas your idea", scoffed Buffy in petulant tide.

"'Twas not" protested Willow with a slight flush of the face for her grog induced courage had indeed ebbed from her blood.

"'Twas so"

"'Twas not"

"Girls, please", smiled Joyce as the two bickered lightly, unbeknownst of their shared heritage, but the widow woman knew this be not the time for such revelations.

"B-but why do I need come?", blustered Willow once more.

"Will, I know not where the gaol be. Besides, if the soldiers see a young sailor boy creeping around they may ask questions and suspicion may be aroused, but if they see me with a young maid they would simply think I be trying to plight my trough"

"Elizabeth Anne Summers! Language!", chided Mrs Summers unprepared for such crudity to spring forth from her daughter's mouth.

"Sorry Mother, but Willow….. I-I need you…please", said Buffy taking her maids hand and unleashing a pout which could warp wrought iron cast in the sacred foundries of Palestine.

"B-but I….and if….oh very well Miss Buffy", sighed the maid in surrender, though her apprehension was if a squall in her gizzard such a tempest was somehow welcomed by the blossoming gall Willow felt oft in her bosom.

"Thankyou Will"

"But I will not venture into the gaol, I will lead you to the kitchens as it has a back door just across the way from the dungeons entrance, but 'tis guarded too"

"Thankyou Willow….for everything", said Buffy as she released the maid from her embrace and crack'd open her chamber door and peered down the long and silent lime washed hallway.

"Take this…you might need it", said Joyce as she slipped from her bussel a small hipflask of fine Belgian brandy, though she was one not to toper Mrs Summers thought it might help ease her child's suffering on the eve of her betrothal to such a villain o' the flag.

"I certainly do", said Willow reaching for the engraved flask but was swiftly halted in her glugging by Joyce slapping her lightly on the hand.

"I meant it may be good to bribe a guard or gaoler, mayhaps even a final grogging for the pirate lady", said Joyce sliding it inside her daughters long Naval coat.

"Oh Mother, she be no lady", smirked Buffy taking knowing how her beloved felt o'er the graces of her feminine wiles. "Now come Will"

"Please be careful and surrender not your wits….both of you", said Joyce as she once more cupped Willow's tender face afore laying tender kiss 'pon her rosying cheek afore blessing her daughter in the same cherished way.

Buffy pulled the door open a little more and taking Willow's hand, which was now becoming clammy as swampen lily, and stepped from her chamber as her heart did rattle finely in her chest. Fear was claiming its feculent territory once more but for Buffy such notions were as trifling for she wished 'pon all she held dear to once more mingle her eyes with Faith's.

Willow felt her fears regroup and launch a counter attack 'pon her frailing senses, a slight tremble did ripple along her fair skin as her low heels clacked with wooden echo as they slowly inched along the halls devoid of soldier and sot alike.

"Miss Buffy, why was Mrs Summers being so….you know…with the…", asked Willow in hushed tone unsure as to the sudden affection bestowed on a humble maid as she by the widow. In the days afore she crossed the ocean to serve as Buffy's handmaiden in London, Willow had oft felt the kindness of Mrs Summers, even gifting her with simple trinkets on her birthday and letting her retire early at Christmas after serving the family well, but this new tenderness, though seeped in a warmth she felt rouse her spirit, still made her worrisome.

"Shhh Will", hushed Buffy as she fastened the last gleaming brass button on the tight white weskit clinging firm to her bosom, "Quick, hide!"

The two young ladies, breath held fast, crept along the walls and hid in the shadow of a finely chiselled recess as dozen soldiers rattled by with their cuffs and collars unbuttoned, something which would earn them a week's fatigues, or even a smart flogging if he was in the mood, of Mr Finn who believed the smartness of his men to be paramount. The women watched and listened as the topered men, bearing heavy accents of the Emerald Isle, stumbled down the heavy stone stairs.

Once the last man had passed Buffy pulled a haughty façade 'pon her delicate childish features and hauled Willow along behind her as they slid into the throng of men in the canteen who gambled dice and puffed on pipe as they celebrated, in raucous lack of manners, their forthcoming triumph.

Using the rum potted decadence of jigging men and fiddling wastrels, Buffy slipped her arm around Willow's firmly bodiced middle and hurried her from the smoke laden drink infused room and into the cobbled courtyards where the brigades of men tossed hat and musket aside as they totted from gourds of mead and made merry with the ostlers and hawkers of the town.

"What be you doing Miss Buffy?", whispered Willow in worry as they scurried with haste around the outer lines of soldiers.

"Just play along", she hissed back touching the brim of her cockaded hat in respect to the ranks they passed.

"Hoi….you there boy!", shouted a man bewhiskered with greying hair, the curled powdered wig sitting askew on his noggin.

"I…oh..er..", Buffy coughed as she and her maid came to a sudden halt, their skin warming with sweat and hearts pounding in fear. Buffy gulped as she lowered her voice to a deep strain, "Me Sir?"

"Aye, I see ye got a fine lassie there. Be ye plannin' t'growl at the badger?", leered the drunken sergeant as his uniform seemed fit to burst around his portly frame much plumped by goose and dripping mutton.

"I beg your pardon, Sir? How dare you speak to a La...", squealed Willow afore a gentle nudge to her ribs from her Mistress silenced her panicked tongue.

"Aye, I gots me a saucy wench an' we be carousin' aplenty", bluffed Buffy with gravelled voice swathed in the crude manners she had oft seen bluster forth from the men who guarded the fort.

Buffy glanced at Willow whose body was rigid as Puritan wife 'pon her wedding night, the maid eyes wetted as her lip trembled for though she wished for stouted heart her fears still manned the helm of her soul. Seeing the blubbering confession forming on Willow's tongue Buffy pulled the redhead to her and pressed a firm kiss to the maid's pursed lips. Willow's eyes near popped from her head as her Mistress' held her tight to her and pushed the moistened lips across her own as if Buffy were naught but a lustrous mumper who hath passed coin for favour.

"Ha-ha, ye go f'r it laddie", the Irish sergeant cheered as his double chin wobbled well whilst he pluck'd cork from bottle once more. It cheered his rancorous heart to see a young boy fresh taken to the Navy fall in with a tender filly of the house, as the kiss broke he watched the golden trimmed cuffs of the sailor snake around the drawn-in waist of the pretty maid once more and hurry her off towards the shadows.

As the women dragged their feet through the dusty courtyard of haggard, beer swilled men, some of which as the maid had suggested where little more than thirteen year 'pon this earth, Buffy pulled Willow along the shadowed walls as they both breathed heavy in relief that they could pass as young enchanters wallowing 'neath the blessing of the sparkling heavens on this clear and humid night.

"Bless my soul Willow, I thought our goose be cooked then. But which way to the kitchens?", whispered Buffy smartly to no reply as she peered round the corner. "Which way, Will?….Willow? What be wrong?"

"Y-y-you kissed me!", hissed back the redhead with eyes hauled wide open in haunted disbelief as if a dozen mules had wrenched back her skin.

"Sorry Will, but I had to convince them of my intent of little virtue. Methinks it worked, so which way do we go?"

"…but y-you kissed me…", spluttered the maid in lower tone staring on as her Mistress' head flicked from one way t'other as the high brimmed sides of her plumeless hat swung as if canvas caught in a fair levant of Eastern promise.

"So? I thought that with you and Kennedy it…."

"Nay, 'tis not that. It just felt…._wrong_…with you I mean. I-I mean not to say your kiss be foul, nay it were fine…lovely even, it just be….w-when with Kennedy….did ye know she reeks of powder and cinnamon a-and when her lips….I mean not to say that y-your lips….", the maid blustered forth wiping her mouth on her lacy pinafore as her Mistress stared on with quirked brow as her beloved friend descended into the throes of panic at the unintended pressing of a kiss.

"Willow, please cease with your babble. Which way do we go?", said Buffy as she raised on her haunches to launch her gaze through the narrow slit windows of the munitions room which was empty of both men and weapons making her furrow her brow in curious splendour.

"Oh sorry….we turn left….then again. The kitchens be a bustling with preparing the feast for your wedding to …..oh sorry Miss Buffy. I meant not to…", said Willow with abashed face for she wished not to wound her Mistress with darkened future which boded ill for all.

"It be alright Will, now come", said Buffy leading the maid round the twist of stables and empty pillories all mottled with the gloomy shadow of the gallows stretching o'er them with foreboding presence.

Spying the kitchens bright lights Buffy slipped behind the oaken tables which come the morrow would be straining under the finest platter of gamebird and sea bass 'pon which they would feast and toast the blessed union of Riley and Buffy. Though the disguised lady knew that the tables, despite their finery, would be naught but an altar 'pon which she would end her life as a free woman and cast deathly pall on her days shackled unto a cruel and vengeful man.

"Willow, you wait for me here. I will not be long", said Buffy as she looked across the iron gated entrance of the gaol as she straightened the gleaming brass buttons on her Navy boys uniform.

"Of course, please be careful Miss Buffy", replied the maid as she felt her spirit, once meek and misered by her station, finally begin to rumble into plucky vim.

Buffy supped a deep breath to firm her oft hidden valour and strutted forth from the star kissed shadows hauling her mask of condescension on her face once more. Keeping rigid spine and smart step the cobbles clinked under her shining leather brogues as Buffy walked with hands clasped in the small of her back, mustering every farthing of courage she could pledge.

As she passed the man on guard with bayonet already fixed and musket pan filled with dry powder, Buffy returned his sharp salute trying not to giggle at her brazen deceit. Though the soldier saw naught but a fresh faced sailor boy peeking out from under an angled brim as if he be barely removed from the swell of lullaby, the Irishman still saw Buffy as a superior rank and so stood to sharp attention as she pushed open the iron door with a creak of rusting metal.

Buffy stepped with lively gait along the twist of torchlit stone lined passageways trying not to reach at the foul rotting air enveloping her skin, her lithe body bedecked in smart brocade and golden strands of pompery slipped further into the dank dungeons where she could hear mewls of suffering mingle with the low rent murmurs of desperate prayer 'til she stood face to face with a bloated man of many years.

"Can I 'elps ye, boy?", grunted the gaoler around a crude belch as he twirled his fraying moustache, grey in hue and bearing the frothing of beer, and stood before the uniformed sailor.

"Oh…I….er...good Sir, I be here to see the pirate Captain…. for I-I wish to say unpleasantries unto her heathen soul", said Buffy with a faux haughty sniff to her rich plummy tones which, despite her moment of hesitation, she managed to recall to her will with ease.

"He-he, another one eh? It be a shillin' a gander", said the man as he cocked his organ with smouldering fuse, its long stem sitting in a round notch in what remained of his browning teeth. The curling grey smoke wisped along the fetid aid making the lady choke as the gaoler opened up his palm bearing a deep bludgeon of a scar.

"Very good my man, but I wish to be left alone with the scoundrel", said Buffy in clipped words and a rise of the chin in superiority.

"Then it'll be 'alf a crown", he snorted back.

"What?", coughed Buffy as the deepened tone she had summoned lilted in surprise.

"It be what I charges Mr Snyder an' Mr 'Arper when they comes a beatin' on 'er. Do ye wish to use the cat? It 'as knots o'leather t'really tear the flesh", smirked the gaoler picking stray oats from his unkempt moustache than dangled well below his clefted chin, nodding his balding pate to the heavy oaken door behind which Faith languished in dark torment.

"T-they what?", coughed Buffy in shock'd manner feeling her disdain for the men that sullied the good name of His Majesty with their callous hateful rites.

"Oh blacken me breeches, 'ow many times do I 'ave t'keep tellin' ye sailor boys? It be a shillin' a gander, 'alf a crown if ye wish t'be left alone with th' pirate for five minutes…but it costs a sovereign if ye wishes to sodomise 'er", he said aloof.

"T-t-to…s-s-sodo….", stammered Buffy with pitiful wetted eyes as it behoved her in great measures to think that the intimacies of a woman could be bought in such a damnable fashion.

"Ah, I takes it ye be too young for that", laughed the gaoler making his glutton's belly wobble in his mirth, "But 'er hind is f'r sale but once an' once only, but if ye do wish to buy her ye best be quick as Mr Langton 'as seemed most tempted by….."

"Fine, I-I will purchase her behi….just take my coin purse and say naught to any… please Sir. I will buy your silence for my whole purse, there be more than a sovereign there", said Buffy handing over the soft cloth bag with monies amounting to near a guinea making the bulbous man's eyes widen as the rattling coin pooled in his hands.

"Deal. Then 'er hind be yours, young Sir. 'Ere's the keys so ye can release 'er from the wall. But I wants 'em back", he said handing Buffy a flaming torch and the iron keys as counted the coins paying little heed to the strange sailor boy closing the door with a gentle bang.

As Buffy stepped across the stone floor peppered with filth and gnawed bones her eyes fought to adjust to the gloom, but as she peered into the darkness she was ill prepared for the sight to befoul her gaze. Faith's head was slumped , her body scorched and bruised with angry hues of purple and black, little in the way of the flamboyancy which enchanted Buffy so remained in the body of the pirate who dangled from the thick iron manacles which had bitten deep into her wrists leaving them bloody and raw. The letters burned into Faith's arm seemed still to bubble with its malevolent wake and her breeches soaked, the feculent reek of urine wisping around Buffy's nose as if to hunt her senses and besmirch them with its bitter gift.

"F-Faith?", said Buffy lightly as she fought to keep her sobs reined in, her soft hand reaching forth from her gilded cuff to cup the buccaneer's welted face.

"….B….?", came the soft murmur spilling from pain struck lips.

"Aye Faith, i-it be me", the lady replied sadly seeing the vicious residue of the violence unleashed on the woman whose beauty, though muted through her suffering, still warmed Buffy's aching heart.

"D-did I fall asleep?"

"For a little while", purred Buffy with a small smile as she saw the pirate stir into life as if she was rousted from a gentle slumber by the feathered touch of the lady.

As Faith's eyes struggled to open, Buffy looked on with such tender sadness that she knew if these were to be their last moments alone she wished to sear them to her mind forever and so leaned in pressing her thin lips to Faith's. Though the buccaneer's blemished skin was mottled and grey the gentle moist kiss seemed to flourish and gift her with a new found vibrant hue and made her breathe easier for, to Faith, it felt like the tender bless of an angel.

Faith's eye slowly drew open with a slight crackle of dried blood, her other socket near fused shut in angered swelling, and forced a pained smile to offer unto Buffy.

"B…y-ye should not b-be here….", staggered Faith as the locks above her felt the rattle and stir of the key letting the pirate slump into Buffy's arms as she collapsed like a sack of pitched mallets.

"I have you now Faith, just rest easy", cooed Buffy as she helped Faith to rest amidst the scattering of spilt coals and desiccated vermin, the biting cold of the stone floor soothing the burns of the pirates skin.

"B…"

"Shhh, Fai. You be safe now….the gaoler wanted to sell your…er…_hindquarters_ to me as if you be naught but stock to trade. I paid him well so no more will you be threatened or harmed thusly", said Buffy as she pushed back the strangle of lifeless hair hanging limply across the pirates face.

"Heh….y-ye mean t'say….y-ye _**bought**_ my ass?", the freebooter tried to say with frothy pith as her dry lips crackled.

"Faith, language…..but yes", chided Buffy playfully as she leant Faith against a wall, her jagged breathing seeming to smooth 'pon righting her body. "But I fear we hath little time alone"

"Then I m-must ask….. o-on the ship…..what the hell w-was that?", asked the pirate as her body cried in pain but her tears would be damn'd to fall free for though she had lost all, her soul was forever hers and no amount of torment would wring her will into submission.

"Oh…that….well….hold one moment", said Buffy as she slipped the flask of grog from her coat and pulled free its small silver tipped stopper and pressed the rim to the crack'd lips of the pirate for Faith's arms were too wrenched to raise herself. As the rich heady drink touched her tongue, near blackened and parched, Faith snapped back as it breathed new pains into her limbs which bore more wounds than the living should e'er endure.

"Nay Faith, not too much", said Buffy in motherish tone as she pulled the flask away only to have the pirate, now near earshot of the Reaper's foul melody, snatch it from her grasp.

"Nay B….'tis ne'er enough", said Faith as she summoned her last strength to pull the drink to her lips once more. It's rush of warming swirl making the pirate judder as her agonies were carved into less abrasive shapes to rent at her soul.

"Hold your glugging. Save some for later", said Buffy taking the vessel, engraved with her father's initials, from Faith's chained hands and plugged it well letting it sit idle in her clammy hand.

As the grog wend its way through Faith's battered body a relief washed o'er her as she felt her chest rattle once more for she had resigned herself unto Hades' blazing welcome afore ever seeing Buffy again, even if in nappish guise.

"Y-ye look mighty fine, y-young Sir", laughed the pirate but her levity could not stop the spitting of blood to sweep her tongue.

"Oh hush", smiled Buffy in return as she pulled her pointed brim and let the sputtering light of the torch catch on every mark and curve of her face

"B….about ye….in the battle….", said Faith softly as now her beloved was illuminated she could engrave her soul with every facet of Buffy's beauty so when in the fiery underworld for all eternity she could always find respite in her minds image of the blonde woman bedecked in a uniform which, to Faith, seemed to make her somehow more alluring.

"Oh aye, well…", said Buffy with uncertain heaving of her bosom only soothed by her taking a measure of drink for herself, "When I were fresh moved to London there were a gentleman by the name of Mr Merrick, a tall and gaunt fellow with but one ear having lost it in the siege of Sebastopol, I engaged his services to improve my tickling of the ivories, well that is what I told Mr Travers anyway. Instead, once a week, I donned the maudlin clothing of the poor so as not to have my noggin tapped, and sneaked out to the wretched stretches of the city, 'tween the Tower and Shadwell there be Woods Street, off Cheapside where the foul smoke of martyrs did cloak all and sundry. When I went to Mr Merrick he taught me not piano… but fencing. The thrill of a blade in my hands staved off the horrors of Finishing School and the spiteful taunts of the ladies there, as I parried and sliced the air I could escape unto a realm where I could cast aside the shackles of convention and feel….alive"

"I…"

"Shh, just rest", said Buffy as she ran her soft fingers through Faith's matted hair, "Anyway, one day I were sparring with a young cock o' the walk named Mr Pike, he did rattle me well with such slanderous words of my family that I felt my ire seize my senses and…I lost control…a-and my blade ran through his throat. T-there was so much blood….I-I near killed him, if it were not for Mr Merrick's teachings as a surgeon in the war then Mr Pike would surely have been interred in Highgate 'neath a wreath and a crudely carved headstone. I-I were so scared that I swore ne'er to raise up sword again….I tried to rid my guilt by burying myself in my etiquette, embroidery and deportment classes, as if becoming as meek and ladylike as I could would wash away my torment. It were little more than a façade to hide my sins, but 'twas a role I played for so long I found it hard to break. The flash of a blade chilled my heart so whene'er I saw one unsheathe …."

"N-not what I meant", said Faith as she shifted her weary bones making the manacles rattle well in the silence of the stone lined tomb.

"Huh?"

"I m-meant the headbutt", the pirate said in mute flippancy.

"Oh that….I got the notion from when I saw you sparring with Dawn", smiled Buffy lightly but seeing the dark clouds sweep across the pirates eyes it choked the brightness from the lady's own merrymaking.

"Oh g-god…Dawn!", said Faith with harsh pained tones ricocheting around her lungs, "I-I must get to her…I-I have to save her!"

"Faith, just sit. There be over a hundred armed men out there, your crewmates are all in chains in this dungeon and you can barely stand. There be little you can do"

"Do not say such words t'me…I-I will…", blustered Faith as she tried to pull at the fixed iron loops but her bloody seared limbs were as infants gall.

"Nay, just listen to me Faith…..", said Buffy easing the buccaneers damaged body back 'gainst the chill of the grey slimed covered stones.

"B….please….I-I am not used to asking much of anyone…b-but Dawn….. ye have to save her. Please B, d-do not let this be her end", coughed Faith in bloody sounds which echoed in fervent wisps of tearful desperation.

"I will do all I can", whimpered Buffy as her voice struggled not to collapse into floods of tears as she pirate clawed at her smooth regimental coat of richest blue.

"P-promise me B….. if my life be forfeit then so be it…..but Dawn….. she…"

"Nay Faith, do not speak like that….please, do not give up hope on your life….. just hold on, for me?", said Buffy as her first trail of salty tear arced down her cheek.

"B….I know my fate an' though I wish it were different…..", said Faith as she took Buffy's hand, "I wish y-ye not to be sorrowed, for my life were the grandest o' parades an' I lived more in my twenty than m-most do in their four score years and ten. I….I just wish I had more time….with ye"

"Thankyou Faith", said Buffy solemnly, "B-but all is not lost for I have words that will bring you comfort"

"Ye have more grog?", Faith quipped with a need to chase the sorrow from what may be their last moments alone in this world.

"Nay, ye dunderpate", said the lady with a light but harangued titter. "It be Kennedy…she still lives"

"What?", gasped the freebooter.

"Aye, she and Willow were blown from the ship into the waters and made it away, so did Lorne and that Johnathan fellow"

"Praise be they are safe...", said Faith with an agonised smile stretching her lips, "But ye have t'tell them to flee, get as far away as they can…..while they can"

"I think they will not heed such a command, I fear"

"Aye, they will…..for _**I**_ am their Captain", snorted Faith as she wiped her soiled hands on her torn breeches, a fleeting flush of shame crept 'pon her face on feeling their dampness.

"Faith, you are no longer Captain of anything for you no longer have a ship. Besides, would _**you**_ leave any of them?", said Buffy with honesty's fayre.

"I….", sighed Faith not used to being bested with words, "I see yer point, but f'r their own sakes and n-necks, they need to haul anchor an' away afore they try any damn fool attempt to free me"

"You know, I wish I could take you away right now ….to sail once more on the sea misted tides and find the liberty you treasure so, but even I, as skilled as I am with a blade, could not best the whole regiment", said Buffy sadly stroking the knitted brow of the pirate catching the first encroach of scabbing.

"I wager _**I**_ could", grunted Faith as she felt the approach of slumber once more.

"Oh pish and tosh, m'dear"

"Nah, B….ye think ye may be good… but it were only some feeble handed soldiers ye bested"

"Aye it were….hold, what do you mean by that?", Buffy squawked in feeble protest.

"I mean…if e'er you were to take up blade with _**me**_ then ye would see what a real swordsman can do", said Faith with a petulant whiff.

"You think I hold my piece with amateurs grasping? Pah, like you could best me with sword"

"I could….. an' ye know it"

"Be that a challenge?", asked Buffy with wide eyes dancing with the glee she had thought ripped from her as she bathed in the infuriating bless of the pirates mockery.

"Think of it a promise", grinned Faith feeling Buffy's hands stroked her tender skin on her arm as the pirates pain slinked away with the surge of grog and the approach of bless'd slumber stealing from her what little time she had left on this earthly plain.

"A promise?"

"Aye, one day….we will cross swords", smiled Faith with a rasp burgeoned with grief for a life she had barely glimpsed with Buffy. A life she would now ne'er know.

"I-in heaven?", Buffy's words slipping free with little thought.

"Nay B, I think a warmer afterlife awaits me"

"Nay Faith, you be a fine and just soul, you saved my life…more than once. Such actions reap rich rewards in the eyes of the Lord….and besides..I-I…."

"B….I know yer words mean t'bring comfort but…..B … ye should go… forget about me…for I have nothin' left", Faith said turning her face away for she wished to bring no more misfortune onto the young woman's slender shoulders.

"You have one thing", said Buffy touching her fingertips to the buccaneers chin and lifting her crestfallen head 'til their gazes clashed.

"And what be that, B?"

"My heart", Buffy whispered in the calligraphy of sweet intent.

"Y-ye mean….?", asked the bludgeoned pirate as her unswollen eye widened fearing that sleep had claimed her already and cast 'pon her the wick'd misconceptions of dream.

"Aye", smiled Buffy sweetly as she stroked Faith's cheek with such tender touch that it seemed to siphon away her ills.

"Tell me B….please…..I-I need to hear ye say it", said the pirate as if her last testament in this world was to cherish such words.

"Faith…..I-I love you. I hath tried to cast it aside as foul alchemy of the soul, but I can fight it no more, y-you have my heart and I ne'er wish to look on another in the same way …my sweet Faith….. I-I wish to be with you…I love you with all that I am", Buffy said with unguarded eyes which bore their truth into the pirates dark soulful orbs which shimmied in unshed tears.

"Thankyou Buffy….now I can go to my grave happy"

"Nay, do not say such things", squealed the lady in saddened surprise that her admission could wrangle no courage from the bruised woman clapped in irons.

"B, I have felt yer love….an' for that I be truly blessed"

"Faith, do not give up…please. Kennedy and that German fellow still breathe and I know they will not stand idle as you….well…"

"And I thank them for that, but this fortress be too well defended, even _**I**_ could not breach it to free…..well, I wish not to say her name as she means naught t'me now, but my crew ….. they should flee while they can …and so should ye", said Faith raising her scorched flesh to stroke Buffy's single tear away.

"Nay. What was it you said unto me_? 'Now I have ye….I will ne'er let ye go?'_'Tis the same for I, my dear Faith", said Buffy with her plight barely contained in the heaving breaths of damp fetid air.

"B….if we have little time…..I must tell ye…..Riley…he plans to…"

"Please do not speak of that foulest of rapscallions", scurled the lady with the clack of incisor.

"But…the hellmouth…..it will…he….", the words of warning were stemmed as Faith's lips caught the gifting of a tender kiss from Buffy who could hold herself no more. Now the pirate was roused fully she wished to offer of herself, a mingling of hearts sounding of equal pitch filled their souls but as their lips offered all they could, the pair were snapped apart as Faith flinched away well 'neath the strolling fingers of the lady.

"Oh Faith, I be so sorry", hissed Buffy seeing the letters 'FT' branded on the brunette's arm, "D-does it hurt that badly?"

"Nay…..well yes. But though my skin may be scorched with these letters o'damnation…. there be but one letter burned into my heart"

"And what is that?"

"B", smiled Faith as her eyes offered no falsehoods or deceit, merely the shine of truths she seldom spilled forth.

"Oh Faith, I…oh no", said Buffy as the gaoler banged hard on the door signalling that time had bested them.

"Dammit", cursed the pirate hearing the heavy hacking cough of the gaoler as he gave the young sailor boy a moment to re-sheathe his codlings.

"Faith, I-I….I think that I must….", she said quickly tucking her golden locks back under the hat in sudden panic that her truth be discovered.

"Then do it B", said Faith with a nod of understanding as the door began to swing open severing their moment of sweet solace.

"But I w-wish not to…"

"B, for yer own sake…..do it", said Faith with stern manner belying her torments. "I love ye, B"

"I love ye too….y-ye filthy whore, I-I cannot wait to see yer neck wrung", snorted Buffy in swift tact as she spat in the pirates face 'neath the glare of the walrus moustached gaoler who flared the room with light for his torch were a spitting brand of bright flame.

"He-he, good on ye boy", laughed the plumpened man as Buffy regretfully pulled her hand away from Faith and stepped from the chill of the cell and the warmth of her love. Buffy could not bear to turn back for one last glance for, to keep up the pretence, she knew she had to be vile unto the one who had her heart.

The door slammed shut once sealing Faith in her darkened mausoleum, but afore the last of the light faded away she snared the hip flask of grog and smiled as she shook the vessel feeling it still half full for she hoped that a fuddling measure of drink could let her rest easy. But such respite would ne'er calm Faith's heart which ached all the more for now she hath earned the love of Buffy, in mere hours it would be choked from her in a blaze of torture afore the mercy of death.

"Sir, I have paid you great monies….so I have one request", said Buffy turning to the gaoler who took back his rattling iron keys.

"Aye?"

"Leave her be, let her sleep on the floor one last time as come the morrow she will face her end. 'Twould be far greater punishment to let her know comfort one last time afore it be torn from her. So no more visitors as I-I-I rode her r-rump well….. so she doth need rest or else her execution would be a calamity of errors if she could not find her feet for it", said Buffy behind her mask of arrogance, though inside her tears welled at the vile façade she hid behind once more.

"Fair enough, ye did pay well an' I knows Mr Finn wants to make an event outta tomorrow as Faith awaits the blow o'mercy. I will let 'er rest easy as I knows we all wants t'see her struggle as she fights f'r breath in the noose", mused the gaoler as he locked the heavy cell door and brushed the greasy rat from his simple wooden platter and chewed on the last of his cheese.

"Thank you", said Buffy as she turned her head to hide her sobs

"May God be with you, Sir", called the dour faced man as his pipe flared into life once more.

"May God _**forgive**_ you, Sir", whispered Buffy in feeble reply as she scampered away down the snaking passageways, the laughter of the bloated gaoler following her every foul step 'til she burst out the door and fled across the yard ignoring the salute of the guard.

"Miss Buffy", said Willow as she emerged from the shadows by the kitchen and grabbed the fleeing form, whose white stockings were grimed from the filthy floor of the cell, who collapsed into the maid's arms in flurry of tears and pleas.

"Oh Christ Jesu…..I-I cannot let her die…..I cannot lose her Willow….I hath only just found her…. and she has set me free …Will….", sobbed Buffy into the rough calico of the maids uniform flowing her salty droplets 'pon the lace edged pinafore.

"Shhhh, it be alright Miss", soothed the redhead hoping her Mistress' distraught wails did not attract attention from the servants who scurried around bearing hog to be roasted and wine to be quaffed in a haze of vile celebration.

"Nay, I cannot…. I _**will**_ not make merry as she …..we must find a way to …..Will!", said Buffy with sudden thought cleaving her sorrows into shards.

"What Miss?"

"The others….Kennedy and that….take me to them", implored Buffy grabbing Willow's wrist and hauling her from the maudlin shadows struck by the knotty wood of the gallows.

"What? Be you maddened o' the noggin? H-how can I just spirit you…", squealed the maid in fraught terror.

"Will, not one guard has looked twice at us save in envy. We can just walk through the front gate", reasoned the lady adjusting her lanyards and shining white weskit holding her bosom firm 'til discomfort began to rear.

"It be not just that….it be Kennedy…..s-she blames you for their downfall", admitted Willow shyly as she felt trapped 'tween the two women in her life.

"Me?"

"Aye, I-I be so sorry, Miss"

"Willow, I will take my chances with them. I cannot stand idle and see Faith be .…please Will, I beg of thee", pleaded Buffy as they paused by the corner of the lime-washed walls of the munitions room peeking round to burn their vision with the drunken carousing of the brigades of unwashed men.

"Oh Miss…b-but….I-I…..oh very well. But if we be caught by the guards…", whined Willow as her low heels, of Flemish design, clacked nervously on the rough flinty cobbles of the courtyard.

"We will not be rumbled, now come….please", said Buffy as they looked across to a small platoon not topering but murmuring their discontent under the heavy weights rendering their shoulders raw.

"Miss Buffy, what be they doing?", asked Willow as she watched the platoon of men haul untapped kegs 'pon their braided shoulders across the dusty stones in a trail of weary men and Gaelic curses.

"It looks like they be loading all the powder into the carts, why would they do that? I know little of armaments but surely the powder be kept with the cannon", said Buffy as if made spouse to confusion.

"Miss Buffy, this be not the time to…"

"You be right…now come on Will", said Buffy as she breathed heavy to firm her dread and tore the white ruffled mob cap free from Willow's head and ruffled her hair well afore loosening the drawstrings of her bodice to cast forth a glimpse of the maid's succulent white breast.

"Miss! What on earth…", squawked the redhead as her locks became dishevelled heaving 'pon Willow the damn'd look of the harridans of Putney.

"Just follow my lead", said Buffy with a cunning smirk as she grabbed Willow round the waist and hauled her along to make their deceitful way through the throng of grogged soldiers 'til they stood by the open iron gates of the fortress.

"Hoi there boy, look at ye two. I guess ye ruffled 'er feathers well m'laddie", chuckled the Irish Sergeant as his uncocked musket leaned under his barrelled weight.

"Aye, I gots me a saucy one 'ere….right Willow?", said Buffy leadingly as they stopped before the man blocking their flight.

"Oh...I…er...aye, ye be most right Bu…er…_Bernard_", spluttered Willow in sudden panic.

"An' nows we be goin' f'r a drink or two in the taverns by the docks. Maybes I might find me another wench", cackled Buffy in crude tongue she thought beneath her.

"If ye does, send 'er my way", called back the Sergeant, made most jovial by the cheap gin flooding his scuppers, as he stood aside to let them strut purposefully past him and through the open gates into the night.

"Aye Sir...that I will", said Buffy as she slapped Willow hard on the behind making the redhead squeak and jump in the air with a rustle of petticoats and shimmer of dull calico. Her dander ruffled, as was her hair and dignity, at the impudence levied unto the maid who now stepped with testy gait as she felt the laughter of the soldiers at the gate waft after them as the two slipped past the morbid flaking sandy brickwork of the orphanage and pressed on to the labyrinth of the town in a dash of colour and a swirl of dress.

As Buffy's arm gripped well to the maid's tightly drawn bodice they spritely made out of earshot where the lady loosened her ill-mannered clutchings by the long drawn oaken timbers of the much crowed about tailor shoppe whose pristine window panes showed off dandy fashions imported from Jamestowne and Boston.

"Miss Buffy…..I be glad you be not a gentleman or else my palm would swiftly find thy cheek", scoffed the Willow as she fumbled to heave her bosom back into her rough confines buttoning up to the neck once more before smoothing down her lacy pinafore out of habit more than custom thesedays.

"Sorry Will for I had to make it look convincing…..but _Bernard_?", said Buffy not wanting to belay her amusement.

"Sorry Miss, i-it were the first boys name I could conjure", blushed the maid slightly.

"It be of no matter, now which way to the smithy?"

"This way", said the maid as she led her Mistress through the twists of manure laden streets where drunks and pickpockets flitted about 'neath the well-protected fortress blocking the sky.

Buffy and Willow scampered along the bristling roads 'til they felt compacted soil 'neath their feet as the docks grew ever closer, vast buildings of deep red brick surrounded by twisting wrought gates of fanciful iron plumage gave way to spreads of sawdust from the stables where enslaved children huddled for warmth amongst the straw and urine of the slumbering thoroughbreds.

The cludding of the HMS Initiative had carried on well into the night as fresh canvas was hung from its hurriedly repaired masts but, in this last hour under the glint of a harvest moon, the surrounding smithy's now lay silent and the sawpits deserted as the block were risen fast and short splices drawn.

Willow stopped in her hasty tracks and swiftly looked around afore her knuckles rapped on a simple wooden door in sharp bursts of three taps 'til, 'pon hearing the raising of the slatted lock, it burst open bathing the two in a shaft of heavy orange from the lanterns swinging listlessly from the beams near the furnace which bellowed out its smoke always.

"It be m…", but before Willow could finish her words the bushy faced smith dragged her in quickly who, by dint of her hand not leaving her Mistress' slick palm, pulled Buffy in as well.

"Gott in himmel? Villow, ye have betrayed us!", growled Lorne as he cocked a flintlock and pointed it firm towards the uniformed boy whose eyes snapped open seeing the muzzle of steel pointing at her flushing face.

"Nay Sir, do not fire….'tis Miss Buffy", pleaded Willow as her Mistress pulled her swooping brimmed hat off letting her hair cascade down allowing Lorne to breathe steady but not drop his deadly aim.

"What in hell's blood be ye doing here?", snarled Kennedy as she stood, regretting Mr Davis' choice to lock away all blades in the moonlit hours, and grabbed Buffy by the smart brocades and slammed her into the wall with a bone juddering thud.

"Ken, please", said Willow seeing the reddening of her lover's tired features.

"Ye have some balls comin' here after all ye done", snapped the buccaneer as her final nerve began to fray 'neath the cloud of dismay enshrouding those who were proud to go on account.

"Kennedy, I wish no harm upon thee", replied Buffy softly not wishing to escalate into the pugilistic arts.

"A bit bloody late for that"

"Kennedy", hissed Willow in shame that her Mistress could be spoken to thusly.

"If I wished ye harm then why would I have come to the very den where death and pain awaited me? Why would I come unarmed to a pirate haven?", reasoned Buffy opening her Naval coat to show neither sheathe nor arms hidden 'neath it.

"Fine", spat Kennedy as she unclenched her grip and stepped away bearing such pitiful loathing in her gaze.

"Then vy be you here?", asked Lorne, the man of God fearing morals whose neck bore fraying wraps of bandage, uncocking his flintlock and stepping back to his gourd of mead and slice of mutton.

"F-for if we do not make haste then Faith and the others will hang come the morrow"

"An' why should ye care?", grunted Kennedy pulling away from Willow's soothing touch.

"I-I now realise the lay of my heart, that I hath been afoul of my own mistrust for too long", said Buffy ashamedly.

"Meaning?", asked Warren around a chipped clay gourd near drained of its honeyed toper.

"I-I…..that is I….tonight I found my future.…I l-love her…..I-I love Faith", stammered Buffy awash with flaming cheek 'pon seeing the glarings of the pirates who numbered but few.

"About bloody time ye saw that", mumbled Kennedy ruefully.

"A-and now the devil take me, let him take us all, if we do naught but sit idle and let Faith meet her end by the earnings of a bliddy blackguard of a gallowsman. Be you with me?", said Buffy with gallant fervour but instead of choralled agreement she could see defeat perched on the brows and hearts of the pirates.

"Zere be too many of 'em Fraulein, ve thought maybe ve could sneak in an'….but zere be guards everywhere…. and ve be but few", muttered Lorne with mourning's leaden echo.

"Please….we must try….", Buffy's begging timbre rippling with tears of desperation.

"It be one thing t'risk our necks for the Cap'n, but why should we trust ye?", snorted Kennedy for her guilt at failing her Captain in the battle had twisted into a razor edged blame to slice at Buffy.

"Because by breaching the gaol to see her I have near synched the noose around my own neck, my mother's too, for there be little doubt o'er the nature of the harangue….. but I will not stand meek while they c-chop Faith into pieces", sobbed Buffy holding a dainty hand to her trembling lips.

"They what?", coughed Mr Davis around his fresh drawn measure of mead.

"Aye, Faith… is to be hung, drawn and quartered", Buffy said with a mewl.

"Weeping Jesus on the cross!", gasped Carrie as she clutched her husband's firebrand scorched hand.

"Like hell she will!", spat Kennedy suddenly riled as to make her melancholy cower into submission, "I be damn'd if I let Faith be cast from life in such a manner! Buffy, Willow… tell me all ye know o' the fort. Its guns, its buildings, its soldiers, everything, spare no detail, an' with heaven's mercy…..we may find a sliver of hope!"


	16. Chapter 16

Captain Finn's face contorted with devilish sneer as he peered through the bronzed spyglass, his gaze cast with churlish intent through the open gates of the fort 'til it struck the still horizon befouled by the rise and lilt of the three French warships riding the swell of the waves, their sails billowed well and their colours flying proudly as they crept round the horn and through the cannon laden battery lining the approach to the docks. But each forged iron harbinger of death and chaos stayed silent as the hulls slid closer o'er the glassy seas towards the jetties awaiting them to spill forth men and arms to take the fort.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered here today under the sight of God to witness this most joyous of occasions, namely the marriage of Elizabeth Anne Summers and the gallant Captain Riley Nebuchadnezzar Finn. But before we proceed to the exchanging of vows….Sir?", asked Mr Snyder, dressed to the nines as was customary for the Best Man, to his commanding officer and stepped to one side taking the spyglass from Riley's eerily calm hands before standing in smart silence by the sweating padre.

"Thankyou Mr Snyder", grinned Riley with a gloating zeal as he stepped forward from the assembled wedding party, bedecked in their dainty finery and starched uniforms, on the raised wooden platform hastily erected, painted white and festooned with the soft slither of yellow silken bows which listed gently in the sea breeze.

He glared down for 'tween the gay wedding platform and the gloomy pall of the gallows standing opposite, stood rows of the shabbily dressed condemn'd with defeat weighing heavy within their breasts. Pirates, vagabonds and even those of Moses' faith, for Mr Finn loathed Semitism as much as he despised Islam, so with this one fell swoop he could send all unto the realms of Be'elzebub. The men, women and children all stood in doomed silence, their filthy clothes infused with the sickening rank scents of decay and hopelessness as they fidgeted in the rough hempen line which bound their wrists well. The heavy weights of the iron manacles would swiften their release from this mortal coil and Mr Finn wanted to delight in the prolonged suffering of the ill-fated prisoners and so ordered rope to shackle their liberty. He wanted to brand Faith's eyes with the slow choking agonies of her shipmates before he took Buffy as his bride in equally cruel sentiment.

Either side of the rogues set to swing stood the brigades of soldiers whose bayonets glistened in the noon sun, smartly dressed despite the ills set by grog, and at sharp attention with powderless muskets such which was to be Mr Finn's gift to the conquering French as a sign of their unquestioned surrender and loyalty. All powder from the cannon, rifles and pistols had been stacked in kegs in the two heavy laden carts flanking the ranks of Irish dragoons who murmured with victory at the fallen pirates about to feel the sharp snap o'rope.

"Now gentlemen, I be most proud and grateful of your accomplishments, with this one act we have secured the Caribbean for His Majesty King Louis for the greater glory of France. Sergeant-at-arms, you may strike the colours", yelled Riley in his pristine military uniform, his slanting hat bearing fanciful plumes 'pon this bless'd day.

"Yes Sir", called back the man with throbbing pate due to his indulgences the previous eve, but his callused hands pulled well at the line running along the flag pole as the Union Jack slowly slid down 'til it were naught but a crumpled rag laying on the cobbles by his feet.

A great huzzah rang out through the Irish brigades as the tricolore raised aloft and fluttered well in the breeze signalling the approaching ships that the impregnable fortress of New Swaffham had indeed fallen into French hands by dint of deceit and wick'dry.

"By jingo! What the devil be you doing, Sir?", squawked Joyce as the colours of His Majesty King George were kicked aside as if naught but paupers shrouds, the widow feeling her heartstrings pluck in foul tunesmithery at the treachery of Mr Finn and his lackeys of little spine and plumpened purse.

"Mind your tongue my dearest _**mother**_", sneered Riley as he turned to Joyce whose face blanched at the foul tapestry of skulduggery being stitched afore her very eyes. "But no longer will the flag you love be flying o'er the Caribbean, for this fort now be under French command. The colours be struck and the island be theirs"

"But Sir…I…", coughed Joyce as she saw the scoundrel in his natural hue, a vile pitch of treason, but fearing foul consequence she halted her call of disgust and let silence take her as her slender fingers toyed with the plain wedding ring she had sworn ne'er to part with.

Joyce's teeth gnashed well as if her words were but flour at the heavy turn of a granite grindstone, for her husband's proud legacy of peace in these waters were rendered unto ash as the fort was wrested from their control and gifted unto the enemy. But though her lungs filled with curses of damnable nature Joyce could not let them air for she was already most awkward of poise, she had needed help climbing the few steps up to the wedding platform claiming gout had ravaged her once more hence her stiffened stride.

"Joyce, i-it be a dark day for all of us. Let us not make it more foul, for there be naught we can do", said Adelle as she placed a hand on her friends elbow, though both women felt damnable outrage at such treachery unfurling before them. With the Summers women encamped in the fort, Adelle had felt the cruel wash of loneliness once more being left alone in the Governor's mansion which she now called home, though the truth of the day had been unveiled to her Adelle still wished to be at her dear friend's side.

"I-I know Adelle, but when I think of Buffy…", Joyce sighed back looking over to her daughter whose face wore as gloomy a pall as any set for purgatory.

For the young lady stood in her glistening silken gown of a fine yellow hue billowing with layers of full and flowing petticoats, embroidered with fine golden stitching, her waist corseted 'til she felt the groan and creak of her ribs 'neath the delicate bodice thrusting forth her alabaster bosom. Much to the chagrin of the Summers women Mr Finn had insisted that Buffy wear the gown of his choosing though Joyce wished for her daughter to marry wearing the dress in which she had wed her beloved Henry.

Buffy had uttered not a word since she stepped 'pon the platform ready to wed for her heart weighed with a morose sickness, the fierce sun bore down and glimmered off her tightly wound curls of golden hair hanging down with forlorn weight from 'neath her bonnet tied under her chin with silken bow. The day she had been steered towards since her ascent into womanhood filled her not with the joy she wished for but a smouldering disdain for her betrothed.

Buffy's hands, clad in delicate white lace gloves, fidgeted awkwardly as her dainty low heeled shoes, tied with white ribbon just able to be glimpsed 'neath the fine French lace hem of her skirts, tapped on the wooden platform as if she was mirroring the gallows opposite just fifty feet away, for both were oak timbered structures where life would be wrenched away.

Buffy pulled her tear rippled eyes away from the lines of the bedraggled convicts facing their doom, at their side stood Faith lashed by the wrists and held firm by two strong soldiers who held their glistening steel blades either side of her neck so she could not wrench her view from the executions. The pirate's body, though racked with pains untold, felt the enlivening of the last snifter of grog she had quaffed afore being dragged from her cell.

Buffy turned away with a rustle of her bow laden bussel, her cheeks rouged and her lips reddened well at Mr Finn's orders for her to be all she could as a doting and pretty wife, 'til her sorrowed eyes met Willows who peaked her gaze up from her bow of reverence topped by a lace trimmed mob cap trapping her swells of glowing red hair.

The maid's head was lowered well so Mr Snyder would not spy her and think something afoot, the black sleek uniform seemed to sit awkwardly on her now as did the long white pinafore tied just above her derriere with a large butterfly bow. Willow's hands sat idle and clasped in front of her as her eyes sneaked up and her lips twitched into the faint phantom of a smile as Buffy, from behind her mask of sorrow, gave a wry wink near invisible in its casting.

The great town clock was striking the quarter hour after eleven when Buffy and Willow had slid back into the confines of the great fort, by such an hour most men were topered well so merely smirked seeing the young sailor boy and his harlot of the hour, bearing a faux stagger to their gait, with ruffled uniform and smeared rouging of the maid's lips. They had been near an hour in the smithy telling their all and, as the dawn of imminent death drew ever closer, Kennedy's mind had felt the spark of powder to her pan and rused a faint glimmer of a ploy.

Once back in Buffy's chamber the two were met once more with the vibrant slither of tears from Joyce at having the two young women return unto her warm embrace. In the sobbing of guilt's frame Buffy unfurled the whole story to her mother, 'twas in that moment they felt as family once more. But now, as they stood on the cusp of foul matrimony, their eyes spat out around the assembled few guests who would witness the coupling of a mangy cur and his reluctant bride.

Mr Langton stood smirking his pride in his ceremonial uniform which was so richly plumed that even those at the Macaroni would make jest of, but 'twas the same garb he married in and so thought it appropriate to bear such fancy. His wife Jasmine stood silently by his side refusing to look out at the murderous decree about to soil their fair town, her eyes burned with hatred for her husband as her long satin gown hugged her too close for comfort for her two fresh crack'd ribs, courtesy of Boyd's angered fist, pained her so. As she stood in the large limp bonnet with new parasol resting on her shoulder Jasmine felt little more than a painted trophy for the man who incurred her wrath often. As if she be little more than dumb chattel or whorish stock.

But in her dark and anguished soul, Jasmine could sense the shroud of mourning weighing heavy o'er the condemn'd as they shuffled from side to side in their bedraggled rags and open seeping wounds. Their crack'd lips and pale skin felt the fierce burn of the sun, but such discomfort was as trifling to them for they would bear vulgar witness to the deaths of their compadres.

Kindred spirits fallen afoul of the crown they be and would walk hand in hand to the Reaper's grim beckon.

A young orphan girl, her skin scorched with the mark of a thief from her three nights in the pillory in the town square afore taken into the gaol a week past, nudged Dawn who bore no fraught on her face, as if she welcomed the grasp of the Reaper who would release her from the torments he had suffered so in her few years. But seeing the pain in Faith's eyes Dawn rose her head proud for if she was to swing she would do so as one who was honoured to have sailed on The Slayer.

"Psst, what be thy name?", asked the girl who waited not for a reply before blustering on, "I be Janice, fear not friend….for I hear the snap be quick. If ye like, I will rush forth an' pull down on yer legs so death comes swift unto thee"

Dawn smiled and nodded back in thanks to the girl who had been chained o'er the far side of the cell these past days and had not uttered words of comfort 'til now as they bathed under the heavy shadow of the gallows bearing down o'er them.

"Now", boomed Riley as he looked down at Faith with a cruel smirk, "Afore I wed I think it be my sacred duty as an officer of the Navy to carry out my duties. So gallowsman, do thy work"

Two soldiers grabbed Dawn and forced her up on to the gallows and looped the hempen coil around her slender neck and tightened its knot well.

"Riley….ye cunny faced shicer!", roared Faith as she felt one of the soldier press his blade closer 'til a trickle of blood freed.

"Hush your words, Faith", he sneered, "My darling Elizabeth begged my mercy for Dawn this very morn and in exchange I would grant clemency on her. Hence she will not be as whore to my ship _**and**_ the whole French fleet…..I decided Dawn will hang first instead"

"T-that be not what you said, Sir", snapped Buffy with teary eyes as she sprang forth towards her intended.

"Quiet Elizabeth, or need I remind you of my promise?", snorted Riley staring deep into her eyes with a gaze that dripped with the reprehensible glow of power.

As Dawn looked on she offered the faintest shadow of a smile unto her sister afore gifting the same sad stretch of lips to Joyce who near sobbed aloud at seeing the young girl about to hang.

"Faith, I may be lenient", smirked Riley, "If you beg"

"What?", the pirate queen snapped back.

"I may stay my hand…..if you get on your knees and beg me to spare Dawn's life. And call me Sir, I like my subjects to be polite", Riley beamed down as if Faith were naught but a hound being brought to heel.

Faith crack'd her knuckles and swallowed the last jagged fractures of her pride as, for Dawn's life, she give her all. But afore she could fall to her knees Faith heard a desperate grunting and stared up to see Dawn shaking her head wildly from side to side for she would ne'er allow her older sister to lie prostrate before a fiend like Mr Finn. The Captain nodded back to Dawn with a heavy sorrowed breath as she turned once more to Riley who still wore her sword as a sign of his conquering of the last great pirate threat in the Caribbean.

"Riley….I spit on yer offer. For Dawn be of my kin, an' we Lehane's will face our end with dignity", Faith snorted back with rigid spine etching great pride in her sallow face.

"Very well. Gallowsman, 'pon my word", said Riley raising his arm as the executioner wrapped his callused hands around the wooden lever ready to pull and let the trapdoor 'neath Dawn's feet fall away at the moment Mr Finn's arm swooped down. Beads of sweat broke out on Faith's skin as a single tear slid down from her swollen eye at being so helpless and at the mercy of such cruel men.

Riley's grin widened flashing his faultless teeth as he breathed in the warm air, his arm all a quiver ready to signal the snuffing of Dawn's young life.

"Sir! 'Tis the Casa De Bonecas!", cried a panic striven sweating soldier running in through the open gates barging past a haggard old woman selling lucky heather, her back hunched 'neath the bundle of sticks weighing her frail body down.

"What?", shouted Mr Finn as he snatched up the spyglass to glance through the town which sloped away to the docks where the fine ship be consumed with flame as its freshly hung sails burnt well sending out a sudden smog of choking gritty black.

"My ship!", cried Mr Langton thrusting his bruised wife away 'til she stumbled into the safe and kindly arms of Adelle.

"Sir, it must be the townsfolk. They must have seen the approaching enemy ships and took flame to the docks to stop them landing", called Mr Synder. "Mayhaps they will seek refuge in the fort from the French?"

"You be right Septimus, damn the he who dares tarnish my day!", yelled Mr Finn in an anger swathed panic, "The French ships _**must**_ have a safe harbour to land, Mr Harper, take half the men and douse those flames afore they burn the whole dock to cinders …..and kill the swine who thought they could try such a feeble act of rebellion!"

"Aye, aye Sir. Step lively men an' get to the ship", saluted Captain Jack Harper as he drew his sword and lead fifty of the hundred men at the gallop through the gates to the burning docks which spat out great plumes of curling black smoke.

"You men, seal the gates for I wish no unrest from the townsfolk to spill into the fort.", called Mr Finn as the remaining men barricaded the heavy iron gates and sealed them with deep metallic clangs of the drawing bolts.

"But Sir, w-what be the meaning of all this?", squealed an ostler as he and the town crier huddled in fear amongst the hawkers with their stolen trinkets and the morris dancers set to plight their sally in celebration at the marriage.

"Quiet, ye prancin' quafers", growled the Sergeant as he pushed the few townsfolk now trapped within the fort to one side, "Ye stay 'ere or else you'll be up on those gallows too, understand?"

"Y-yes Sir", said the shiny pated man whose skin bore ravages of untold disease as they backed away to the folly of the gatehouse.

"You men, take up position", shouted Mr Snyder splitting the remaining fifty men into two equal cohorts to surround the pirates and vagabonds once more.

"Now, gallowsman….. the devil with the distraction, earn your heels", spat Mr Finn for his dander had been riled greatly.

"Aye Sir", replied the man as he once more took the wooden lever in his hand as Dawn gulped feeling the wood creak 'neath her heels. Her sad eyes closed as she breathed slow and heavy for she felt no dread for the afterlife.

"No!", shouted Faith as she struggled 'gainst the burly hands holding her tight caring not that their steel sliced her flesh all the more with each twitching of her pain infused limbs.

A silence fell o'er the courtyard as the gallowsman clenched his fingers and smirked.

_**KA-BOOM! KA-BOOM!**_

Twin great explosions rang out through the courtyard as the two carts loaded with powder kegs burst into flaming shards flaying soldiers on either side of the gallows. A plume of fire and smoke erupted around the thick walls of the courtyard with a fearsome echo as all assembled, whether condemn'd man or wedding guest, sprawled to the dusty stone floor.

Splinters of smouldering wood rained down o'er all assembled as pitiful cries of agony sounded forth, the air now a rabid fusion of pain and shock as the left support of the wedding platform crack'd sending the effete and the devious rolling down onto the cobbles to mingle with the pirates and the soldiers, in undignified bundles of silks and medals.

Flesh was ripped and life snuffed in but an instant as the soldiers lay in a bloody tangle of stained uniform and broken muskets for the blast tore them well, they had stood mere feet from the powder laden carts and so, by dint of merciful fortune, had shielded the prisoners from the full vehemence of the blast as the thick black smoke swirled out engulfed the courtyard in the fog of chaos.

But 'twas not only the soldiers who felt the rage of the explosion for the gallowsman felt a long sliver of oak tear through his soft eye and stand proud in vulgar and bloody display as it severed his brain deep 'til it scratched at the back of his malformed skull. His body breathed its last as he slumped forward but his corpse fell 'gainst the wooden lever and the platform 'neath Dawn's feet gave way sending her plummeting down.

Her small body jerked fiercely as the rope snapped well ceasing her fall but the brittle bones of her neck did not break in mercy. Dawn's eyes bulged and her legs kicked wildly as the life was strangled from her in slow malicious measures of time.

In the smoke ridden pandemonium Johnathan and Lorne tossed down knotted ropes from their hidden places on the battlements, 'twas from this stealthy lofty perch they had thrown down the firepots which ignited the two carts heavy loaded with powder in a great balloon of flame and splinter. In the early hours of the morn they began to implement Kennedy's ploy and gathered what little powder they had and, much to Carrie's chagrin, emptied her kitchen to find clay pots with which to fill with the blackened bringer of doom.

As the soldiers cried the agonies and spluttered their sooty shock they were silenced by the slick silent form sprinting through them slashing and slicing their flesh as, despite the heavy burden, it sped o'er the debris strewn cobbles. For Kennedy had cast off her feeble guise of an embittered crone selling lucky heather and, 'pon the ferocious crack of explosions, hauled her neckerchief o'er her mouth to still the smoke from scouring her lungs and pulled from her bundle two short swords with which she tore skin and gizzard on her flight amidst the throng of prisoners.

Throwing down her weighty bundle of sticks it clanged with promise as Kennedy sliced open its hessian coverings to reveal a good two dozen finely made blades courtesy of Mr Davis' spark infused craftsmanship. The First Mate sliced the bonds of around Warren and Mr Gunn's wrists afore offering salvation unto the others who faced the snap of the gallows where Dawn fought for her life as she dangled and choked whilst the soldiers now cleared their senses and saw the threat blossom from within the melee unfolding.

"Now men, ye can take up sword an' stand with me fightin' 'til ye fall like ye should….or ye can whimper 'til these bastards kill ye anyway. What say ye?", roared Kennedy as she severed the hempen bonds of Isis and Topher.

"Aye, we be with ye!", shouted Isis as she snatched up blade, tossing one to Topher who near screamed at the sword being launched at him, and stood back to back with Kennedy as they fought off the first line of soldiers who, with no powder in their muskets, had to draw blades. The explosion of the powder carts had slaughtered near half the soldiers leaving their numbers almost equal to the prisoners who were quickly arming themselves and fighting back.

Faith pushed herself back up from under the body of a soldier whose spine was near torn free by the blast whilst the other soldier shook the bewilderment from his head bearing singed wig. But his head snapped back with a fierce crack and an arc of blood as Faith slammed the point of her scarred elbow into his face afore she snatched up his blade and sliced her hempen bonds.

"Dawn!", screamed the buccaneer as she ran towards the gallows where Dawn kicked ferociously as her face flushed with death's embrace.

"Kill them…kill them all, show no quarter", yelled Mr Finn as he finally fought to his feet and unsheathed his sword. For Riley had been well hidden 'neath the body of the padre set to wed them, the Holy man's face shredded by the twisted metal of the carts wheel rims near taking his head clean off. As Riley lunged into the fray he slashed his blade at the prisoners and pushed on into the midst of the fight, the foul air of battle arced up and consumed them all in its terrible crimson wake as Riley watched Faith bludgeoning her way desperately across the courtyard.

But the tangle of soldiers and gaunt vagabonds who had struggled back to their feet and fought with demons prowess blocked her route as Faith shoved and kicked her way forward, leaping o'er Buffy and her mother, not wrenching her eyes from Dawn whose kicks were lessening as blackness was taking her.

"Willow….now!", shouted Buffy as the wedding guests started to panic as they were now mingled with cut-throats and soldiers.

Willow, casting off her shame, hauled up her layers of frilly petticoats to show that buckled to her thighs, on top of her green cotton bloomers, were a pair of flintlocks primed and loaded. Buffy yanked them free of the leather strapping and stared through the growing smoke and throbbing mass of bleeding humanity to see her intended target who ran his sword through the neck of the Irish Sergeant who fell in a gurgling spill of steaming scarlet.

"Mr Gunn….catch!", Buffy cried as she tossed the pistols across the throng of bodies.

Dropping his stained blade the burly Bo'sun leapt and caught them in the air, cocking them as he rolled across the cobbles and, with the blessing of Allah, he fired but one shot straight and true severing the rope just above Dawn's head letting the girl fall to the cobbles 'neath the gallows where she gasped for breath.

Faith felt not the burn of sword running through her side for she was mummified by anxiety's want and thrust her blade at any scrap of skin standing afore her 'til she hauled Dawn's gasping body into her arms.

"Dawnie….oh sweet Jesu", whimpered Faith as a torrent of plight made home in her heart, "Be alright ….please baby ….. p-please be alright"

The youngling coughed as the pirate stroked her hair lovingly, the erupting battle was of little consequence to Faith as she pressed her pleading lips to Dawn's forehead and sliced the noose from its skin wrenching pull.

"Dawnie? Be ye alright?", said Faith with a begging tone.

The young girl nodded back in silence as she breathed easier filling her small body with the scourge of smoke and pain as they knelt in the darkened shelter 'neath the gallows as the clang and clatter of steel sung out its morbid enticing rhythms as if a forged crescendo unto hell.

"Thank the Lord, now just stay here", Faith ordered leaving the young girl and running into the fight, for there be another who dwelt in her heart whose life was as precious to her.

"Mother….now!", shouted Buffy as the enraging tumult soon spread throughout the courtyard like a plague on a Flemish schooner, its clashing of blades coming ever closer to the well-dressed women.

Buffy turned to her mother as Joyce also raised her elegant gown to reveal her stiffened stride was not due to the merciless enflaming of gout but courtesy of the rapier strapped to her long leg. The bride-to-be removed the buckles and unsheathed the shining steel blade for 'pon the return of Willow and Buffy the previous eve they had spun their ploy unto Joyce in a maelstrom of tears and truths. For the love of her daughter Joyce would walk o'er hot coals in the devil's own foundry in sacrifice, though she felt strange at having forged steel piercing her bloomers once more, the widow would do her all to wrench Buffy from Mr Finn's evil grasp.

"Miss Summers…what the devil?", gasped Mr Snyder as he turned back from the fight with blade soaked in the blood of Warren whose lifeless pierced body slumped to the scatter of wood and lost limb.

"Have at you Sir, you varlot!", snorted Buffy as she thrust forth with her blade, the steel snickering off Snyder's sword as he was pushed onto the backfoot as she stood 'tween the bustle of men and her family as she clashed her steel 'gainst his retreating blade as the balding man stumbled o'er corpses and debris.

Joyce, far from being terrored by the bloodshed and violence, reached into Adelle's voluminous bussel and whipped out two flintlocks and fired well spitting leaden death into the chests of two soldiers who were encircling Buffy, sending their bodies crashing down to the flinty cobbles with a sickening crack as they fell.

"Ma'am? What on earth?", gasped Willow seeing the smoking pistol barrels in either of Joyce's hands as Adelle pulled the maid back towards the relative safety of the fallen wedding platform.

"What? You think I were always a meek Governor's wife and docile mother? Nay, I spent manys the hours hunting pheasant and fox alike", smiled Joyce in well-rehearsed falsehood as the widow felt the raucous energy of youth powder her veins and burst into life as she raised up a discarded blade and fended off the clumsy lunges of Mr Langton who had watched with wide eyes as the Summers women aligned themselves with the scofflaws and ne'er-do-wells.

"Madam, you are sorely mistaken if you think such treason will go unpunished", yelled Mr Langton o'er the din of battle as his steel was parried away.

"I think 'tis you who shall feel the wrath o' the law long before I, good Sir", smirked Joyce as she held up petticoat with one hand and, with the other hand, whose fingertips were well prick'd by years of embroidery, thrust her sword with deft ease.

For no-one knew of Joyce's true past.

A past of shameful deeds she would spill blood to safeguard from e'er being unearthed.

Mr Langton's pomposity was prick'd by the defiance of this aged woman who wielded a sword with certain graceless skill, as his colour peaked, in an act of caddish gall, he yanked Jasmine towards him and used her as a shield backing away from the fight. His coward's eyes searching frantically for a means of escape hoping to seal himself in the gaol 'til the French ships docked and brought forth their arms and men.

"Nwangi!", came the ear piercing scream of disbelief across the courtyard as Jasmine felt her eyes deceive her, for she thought the man bludgeoning a soldier to a bloody death in a flurry of shattered bones and severed spurting veins had met his end in chains at the oar of a galley years earlier.

"J-Jasmine?", Mr Gunn rasped out in disbelief as he wallowed in her anguished glare.

"By jove, what be this course?", coughed Mr Langton as he saw Mr Gunn barrel through the line of soldiers straight at him.

"Nwangi!", she called again in desperate joy but she were hauled round and felled with a thunderous slap across her beautiful face as Jasmine thudded down to the cobbles in a flail of pain and petticoats.

"Ye bastard!", roared Mr Gunn as his eyes shrouded with a scurl of rage, his blade shaking in his hand for ne'er had anyone laid a hand on Jasmine before without losing their limbs or having their eyes gouged out by the Bo'sun's bare hands.

"Stay back…..a-and I will guarantee you shall not face the gallows", gasped Mr Langton with parched throat seeing the unbridled anger rattle Mr Gunn's whole skin in a ripple, "Now my man jus….."

Afore any further words of beggars pitch could spill from his lips Mr Langton looked down to see the bloody point of a blade sticking out from his gullet through his smart uniform now befouled with the spurt of crimson, its hilt near rammed into his spine as he turned slowly to see Jasmine grimacing at him.

"Ne'er again shall ye touch me, ye shite", Jasmine growled as she spat in his face afore he fell down dead with a thud of damn'd bones.

"J-Jasmine? I….I…praise Allah for his mercy, but I..I..", stammered Mr Gunn as, for the first time in manys the year, his tears streaked down his face as he almost feared the touch of his beloved, for if she was naught but cruel phantom then his heart would shatter its remaining shards.

"Nwangi….I hath prayed also….but 'tis really you?", Jasmine sobbed back as her delicate fingers cupped his cheek and her thumbs wiped his tears away.

"Nay, Nwangi be of a life I shed long ago. I am Mr Gunn now….. but it matters not what my name be, for my heart hath always been yours my love", he said with shaky voice as Jasmine's lips lunged at his and the whole brittle world flaked away for the pressing of skin was more beautiful than any seraph's sweet melody.

But their moment was snapped free by a great clattering of wood on iron ringing out as the fifty men sent to douse the fire of the Casa De Bonecas came thundering back, once hearing the great explosion and the fort gates sealed they knew they be hoodwink'd. Musket and fist pounded on the gate as the Irishmen led by Mr Harper called out their distress but no crossbolt slithered back, for the screams of death and the clanging of sabre would be their only answer.

"Lorne, take down that damn'd flag an' raise the Union colors. Show them Frenchies it be not their fort!", shouted Faith o'er the rousing anthem of doom and pain which she was most joyous to chorus with. She had seen Buffy with blade in her hand fighting the thin topped Snyder back across the courtyard and, seeing the wide gleaming smile of her beloved, knew she needed not, nor wished for, help.

"Ja Mein Kapitan", he called back as he hauled down the tricolore and shook the dust and debris from the British flag afore rising the glory of Ol' Jack proudly to wave o'er the fortress.

"Ye there, what be thy name?", called Faith as saw a scurry of soldiers break from the fighting and flee towards the gatehouse.

"Isis", called back the tall woman who fought with the strength of a cornered jackal for she knew if these were her last moments on this mortal plain, then she wished to fall with blade in hand and smoke on the wind.

"Isis, if they open that gate we be lost. Defend it at all costs", shouted Faith seeing the three soldiers fumbled with the great iron bolt drawn across the gate.

"Aye, aye Cap'n. Come on ye bastards, t'the gate!", she called back making Faith smile at the worth being proved unto her as Isis lead a half dozen pirates and pickpockets to slay the soldiers hoping to make good their rescue.

The battling villains and vagabonds fought as the smoke swirled around, pockets of spitting death breaking out as vanguard could find no form as the soldiers pounded and slashed in equal reply to the feral desire of the condemn'd. Though many the prisoner had fallen at least they did so in dignity for a noble death cancelled out the shame of a lowly birth.

"NO!", screamed Willow as she picked up her long flow of skirts and, with the scurrying of startled fox, bounded past the widow bearing worrisome pallor.

"Willow!", yelled Joyce as she felt her arms aching well in her clattering defensive strokes of her blade but the redhead, her mob cap cast aside, sprinted through the swell of violence, her hair a flailing mass of bright red locks as the bright sun gifted her tresses a fiery aspect.

"Get off my lady!", shouted Willow as she, bolstered by her blossoming courage, leapt on the back of a soldier who had Kennedy pinned to the ground and dagger to her cheek pressing into her weeping flesh. The man screamed as the redhead, entangled with a flourishing sense of protection, scratched wildly at his face and bit his ear 'til his lobe tore free and his sword was dropped, the two pulled back where on Kennedy picked up her fallen blade with her unpained arm and thrust it through the gullet of the man.

"Yer lady am I?", smirked Kennedy as the maid hauled her back to her feet, a trail of blood along Willow's lips and her skin all a quiver as the bravery she had ne'er thought possible blazed through her.

"Aye…. as I be yours", smirked the redhead as she pulled up blade, silently thanking her idle time on board The Slayer whence Kennedy had showed her the tang o' steel. The two stood back to back for Willow's rigid social etiquette were now near slain and left as dying embers for the fury of her love for the pirate had enlivened her spirit to such degrees that the maid would risk her all for Kennedy who hissed in pain for her arm be broken bad.

"Bless me sheckles Ken, I gave word for ye to flee", shouted Faith as she drew her sword back from the ribs of a Corporal who gasped his last as she kicked him body away.

"An' let ye have all the fun? I think not Cap'n", grinned Kennedy as she and her love parried loose willed thrust from the soldiers who now numbered but few as one by one they fell.

"But who torched the ship in the docks?"

"It were Davis an' Carrie, they run great risks to set flame t'the ship an'…."

"Hold. Where be Dawn? I told her to stay hidden", yelled Faith as her eyes saw naught but corpse 'neath the gallows.

"I know not, dammit Dawn", Kennedy growled as a sudden fear enveloped her for she knew that the young girl had Faith's spirit in spades and would ne'er listen to simple orders.

Faiths wounds mounted but they were mere nicks, her soul now a burning inferno of slaughter as she rammed her blade through a soldiers cheek, scraping along his teeth 'til it emerged on the other side of his face, as her eyes scattered its heavy gaze searching for her younger sister. The fight was lessening but the brutality was still a monstrous fiend plucking life in a silhouette of bloody carnage cast 'gainst the swirling gritty black smoke which still poured from the burning carts.

"There you be, you little whore", growled Mr Finn as his sword tip pointed to Dawn whose blade had become stuck in the spine of a soldier, leaving her unarmed and still weakened by the choke of hempen line. In the chaos of the fight the youngling backed away not knowing who was ally and who was enemy 'til she felt her back strike the fallen wooden wedding platform and block her flight as Riley stalked closer 'til but five yards away as his eyes sparkled with evil intent. Dawn, though courageous in fight, felt as weak as mewling infant under his gaze as her tears sprung forth and a great chill ran up her spine.

"Mr Finn!", shouted Joyce as, with one hand hoisting her petticoats well, she ran with sword in hand 'tween the unarmed girl and the vile cur, "I will not let you harm this child"

"Oh you old tart, so you wish to die alongside her? I have no qualms about that", he shouted as he lunged forth his blade but Joyce slashed back. Their steel clashing furiously in jagged sparks as they clanged together, though the widow was graceless with a sword she had a heart full of disdain for this wretch and love for the wellbeing of a child cast such an unfair hand since birth.

"If you so much as lay a hand on Dawn…", Joyce snarled as the metal sang out its misanthropic tune.

"I will do all I wish…..and more", grinned back Riley as he sidestepped desperate thrusts and tiring lunge of the widow unused to such fervour.

They fought back and forth but Mr Finn was no match for her as he knocked her blade to one side and ran his sword through Joyce's shoulder. The steel shaft splattered with her scarlet liquid as Riley slowly twisted the sword severing her near through to the shoulder blade as she fell to her knees. The widow's eyes filled with tears as she stared up the man whose iron grip around the hilt tightened all the more as its narrow blade twisted a little more renting her wound open further.

"Oh Joyce, look at you. You cry and whimper ….I heard your husband cried in much the same way…when I had him killed", glowered Riley.

"Y-you…murdered m-my Hank?", whimpered Joyce as she wrapped her hands around the sword, ignoring the cuts slicing her palms open as she gripped it to stop its tearing of flesh any more.

"Aye, he were but a pawn….and now it seems, you clack'd ol' harpy, you will be joining him", laughed Riley as he kicked Joyce firm in the breast releasing his sword from the widow who slumped into a mass of bloody silks.

Joyce's eyes wrenched open as she reached for the gushing wound but afore her hands could soil with the flow of blood Dawn pressed her own small hands to the gaping maw of torn flesh and severed sinew.

"Aww Dawnie, you be trying to help her as if she were beloved of yours?", taunted Riley as he touched the point of his sword to Dawn's chin and raised her tear streaked face, "I shall take great pleasure in finishing the job I started all those years ago"

"N-n-no", gasped Joyce as she looked up with blurred eyes and flopped forward grabbing at Mr Finn's ankle in a pitiful act of desperation afore he kick'd her hard in the face.

"Oh how pathetic you be Joyce, well I will let you watch as I gut this filthy little bitch…then I will take great pleasure in sending Elizabeth to the afterlife with you for it seems my darling bride be most poisoned with Faith's ill ways"

Riley smirked as he tightened his grip ready to thrust his steel through Dawn's throat but afore he could end her life a shaft of wood slammed ferociously into the side of his head cracking his noggin well tearing a great flap of skin from his head which hung down. He gasped in panic as the tremendous pain roared through his head, his shaking hands dropping the sword as he reached the great rip of flesh and hair trying feebly to hold it back in place.

"W-w-what the…..?", he coughed as he felt the thick trail of scarlet run down the side of his face and stain the stark white collar of his uniform. His eyes, now crack'd of their pompous victory, raised up to see the one who wielded the musket butt near split in twain such was the ferocity with which it struck his skull.

"I said I would be takin' _**my**_ sword back …now Riley, I will gladly hang yer head from yer own bowsprit", growled Faith as she picked up her fallen sword and felt a rich vibrancy in her heart holding its hilt once more in her palm, her fresh wounds meant little as a great swathe of foes blood smeared across her face.

"No", snapped Joyce as she clenched tight to Dawn's hand as the youngling, a mire of rage and bloody reprisal, took up cast off blade ready to slice Riley's noggin free, "I-I wish for vengeance too….but do not soil yourself with his blood….for you are more than that. P-please Dawn"

As the widow gasped her words through her pain Dawn stared at the softened eyes of Joyce and nodded to the woman who lay in a twist of silks and crimson, though she knew not why the pleas from a woman she barely knew could cripple her anger thusly.

"Riley, manys the foe has fallen t'my blade…I care not that one more should bless it's steel", sneered Faith as she stepped closer to him with her sword arrow straight aimed to his heart.

"A-as if you could…. a rogue like you stands alone…", he trailed off seeing the last half dozen of his men surrender their weapons and beg for mercy, including Mr Snyder whose hands had been sliced to ribbons by Buffy's skilful blade, to the dozen or so prisoners who still clung to life and arms in equal fervent measures.

"Nay….Faith will _**ne'er**_ stand alone", shouted Buffy as she, bloody sword drawn, stood by the pirates side soon joined by Kennedy and Willow. "Oh sweet mercy, Mother!"

Buffy fell to her knees and cradled her Mother's head brushing straggled hair from the widows face, her tears spilling forth as Joyce smiled up with juddering lips.

"It be alright my darling …I-I can see how much you have risked f-for this pirate girl …..I be so proud of you Buffy. But this F-Faith….s-she will take care of you n-now, I can see the depth o-of your feelings….for her", gasped Joyce in staggered breaths for the rush of the fight had ebbed away and now her pain reigned o'er her senses.

"Mother please….do not say words of finality….ye will be fine", sobbed Buffy with false smile as Adelle crawled from her place of safety 'neath the fallen wedding platform and rushed o'er to her bloodied friend.

"Joyce, oh sweet …just lay still….", said Adelle as she tore free the bow of her bussel and pressed it to the wound, "Fear not Buffy, in my youth I worked as a nurse in St Swithun's hospital in Whitechapel, leave her in my hands"

"I…I…but…", Buffy cried in feeble protest.

"I said let me work Miss", snapped Adelle in harsh tone as if she were schoolmarm to the young woman. Buffy nodded slowly and shuffled back in her floating dress weighed down by the drench of sweat and blood.

"Mr Finn, take up sword…..let us finish this", snarled Faith as she pushed the pointed tip of her blade to his throat making him stand on quiversome legs as she pressed him back to the courtyard where the banging on the iron gates still rang out but with a hearty gaggle of pirates and convicts holding the crossbolt firm, the Irish brigade outside could find no entry.

"Aye, to the end", Riley said as he pulled a sword from the cold hand of a fallen soldier as the survivors stepped back allowing the pirate and the Naval officer room to fight.

"If ye should best me…..ye shall walk free from here. Ye hear me men, 'tis my last command", shouted Faith to the pirates who encircled the duo, one of whom about to feel the wrath of Creation when they fell.

"Aye, aye Cap'n", said Kennedy proudly for she knew her beloved friend was starved and near broken of body, and Riley being fresh of the day and strong as oak.

"Come on then ye bastard", she sneered as Riley slashed forward his blade.

She barely blocked his thrust as the sharpened clang of steel rang out, the snickering of blade sounded off the walls of the courtyard as Faith fought on the backfoot for Riley was indeed a strong brute. What he lacked in skill with the blade was made up for the brutality of his lunges as the pirate queen lashed her blade back summoning every last farthing of fortitude she could.

"Oh Faith, you really be willing to die for Elizabeth?", he sneered as her swinging sword sliced a button from his tunic sending to the stone laden ground with a sharp clink of metal.

"Aye, for she be more than ye could e'er know", Faith retorted as she swung well with her father's blade, but Riley ducked its severing slash and the pirate felt his sword plunge into her hip, near bending his blade on her bone, but the pirate was so enraged by the spirit of battle that pain mean naught to her as she collapsed back.

"And you think that she really feels for you? Nay my dear, you are but a pirate…..a whore at best …like Dawnie", he goaded as a mist of black crossed Faith's eyes as she bellowed forth a growl of Hades' design as she ran full tilt at Riley.

"Ye dare say such things t'me?", she spat back.

The sword of Faith's father swung as if in the arms of a maniac, it sliced the air all around him finding sweet pleasure in the cutting of his skin as Riley backed up. His blocks could barely veer the silver tip from finding his heart for Mr Finn had unleashed a riotous beast who felt no pain from her mounting wounds which dripped their crimson down her skin 'til each heavy round droplet spattered on the dusty cobbles as the smoke wafted around them.

"Aargghh….", he coughed in sudden panic for with one evil lunge Faith ran her steel through his hand making him drop his blade.

"Now Sir, do ye yield?", grunted Faith as she pressed the tip of her blade to his gulping throat 'til a trickle of blood ran down his skin.

"Would you really kill an unarmed man…..in front of your sister…in front of Elizabeth? Go ahead, show them your real face", smirked Riley with one last cast of the die.

"Riley, nothin' would make me happier than to slit ye open from gizzard t'toe…. but death be too good for the likes of ye", sneered Faith as her knuckles crack'd around the hilt once more as she fought to rein in her desire for vengeance.

"But ye be right …..I will not kill an unarmed man", said Faith dropping her sword afore firing off a smirk as if engraved by Be'elzebub himself as she spoke in a tone both crisp and even, "Tis not by my hand will ye find the mercy o' death"

Faith turned away from his sight as he was covetous a sinner as e'er she had encountered but wished him not the blessing of a swift end, 'til she spied the dewy eyes of Dawn who furrowed her brows at Mr Finn's apparent escape from justice.

"But ye will not go whole to thy grave!", Faith snarled as she span round in a whirling dervish of retribution.

"What do you…"

But before Riley could finish his words the blade of Faith's father thrust forward and skewered his codlings in a burst of crimson to soak his breeches as he fell down on the gritty cobbles of the courtyard where his flow of blood pooled around as he screamed his agonies.

"Ne'er again will ye be able to hurt a lass", Faith growled stepping away from the wretched figure who whimpered and mewled like a wick'd infant punished greatly.

"Faith?", called Buffy in shock watching the man she was to wed be rendered unto a simpering quivering hunched form with one sharpened thrust of steel.

"B, when I tell ye the whole truth of his foul deceit…ye will wish I had harmed him more", replied the pirate calmly across the hush of the courtyard, "Lorne, take this shivy poxster to the depths o' the gaol an' lock him in irons. Let him suffer his wounds"

"Ja Mein Kapitan. Unt if he should bleed out?", asked the gruff Bavarian man as he and Johnathan hauled Riley to his feet and dragged his whimpering form towards the dungeons.

"Nay, do not let him die for he has much t'answer for. Seal his wound… there be a brazier down there. Save what ye can of his codlings… remove the parts too well torn. Ye never know Riley, bein' a eunuch may suit ye…..who be the bitch now?", smirked Faith seeing the panic and fear unwind on Mr Finn's face as he faced the glowing brands of cauterizing to stem the flow of blood.

"But we still have a fight t'finish. Ken, go up t'the ramparts an' see what be goin' on", called Faith as she had suddenly noted the lack of hammering on the great iron gates of the fortress

"Aye, aye, Cap'n", Kennedy yelled as she ran to haul herself up the knotted ropes left dangling down the walls by Lorne.

Faith lowered her sword and breathed heavy as she stepped back across to where Buffy wept at her mother's anguish, Dawn's hand ne'er leaving Joyce's pained clutchings.

"How be she?", asked the pirate watching the tender scene unfurl before her hazy eyes.

"She will be fine, it may be deep but 'tis only a flesh wound. No veins were severed and no organs damaged, hear that Joyce? You will be right as rain in a few days", smiled Adelle pressing the flop of satin to the wound whose seeping crimson had lessened to little more than a trickle.

"Thank the Lord…and thank you…er..", asked Buffy as she wiped her tears away with her lacy gloves which now carried a vibrant hue of red.

"Adelle DeWitt, I be a close friend of your mothers", smiled back the attending nurse.

"Then I thank thee most humbly, Ma'am", replied Buffy with a gentle yet wavering smile.

"B, come away. Give her some room t'work", said Faith softly as she stroked Buffy's nape looking down at Joyce who smiled softly despite her pain. "Ma'am….ye saved Dawn… I can ne'er thank thee enough"

"A-and I hear you saved my darling daughter , Miss. I tally that as us being even", said Joyce as Adelle helped her to a sitting position.

"Aye, that be fair. Oh….I be Faith, by the way", smiled the bedraggled pirate queen as she wiped the spatters of blood from her face wishing for a finer moment to introduce herself unto the kin of her beloved.

"Pleasure to make thy acquaintance, M-Miss", Joyce hissed at her well-sliced wound.

"Oh shush my friend, I will have you stitched in no time", scoffed Adelle lightly as her eyes flicked across the surrounding women, but in the spark of pan to powder, her gaze hauled a terrible aspect. "W-w-where did ye get that?"

"Huh?", Faith said looking down to where Adelle's bony finger pointed. For the pirates breeches were slit from knee to hip due to Riley's intent on torturing her all the more, "It be a birthmark, where do you think I got it from?", scoffed the pirate.

"I…it cannot be true….I hath prayed for s-so long for you….my Caroline", gasped Adelle with a shudder as her eyes pooled with salty burning tears as she raised to her feet and stepped close to the pirate whose thigh was despoiled by the crescent shaped mark.

"Huh?", said Faith as Adelle stood inches from her studying her eyes well.

"M-my daughter….Caroline. She was stolen from me when she still be in swaddling clothes…..s-she had the same mark, as prominent and unmistakable as when I birthed her. You may have grown much but y-your eyes…they ne'er change…..'tis you…I swear it", gasped Adelle as she reached forward to touch Faith's bruised and bloody face but, to the pirates surprise, Faith did not flinch from the touch for something about her tone struck the pirate's heart.

"Sorry lady, ye got the wrong girl for I…..huh?"

For before Faith could finish her words Adelle started humming a tune which somehow burrowed deep into her noggin, though the pirate swore she did not know of it, Faith began to hum along in strange unison.

"W-what…..how did I…?", coughed Faith as she felt her soul melting as Adelle stroked her cheek.

"'Twas the cradlesong I lullabied you with as a babe, 'tis not a song of note for I composed it one night… a tune that only the two of us would e'er know…my Caroline", sobbed Adelle as ne'er did she think it possible for such a meeting to happen this side of the Pearly Gates.

"Y-ye cannot be a…. m-my mother were but a drunken whore from Boston", stammered Faith in creaking fear that such truths were possible.

"Nay my darling child, let me tell you of…"

"Faith!", came the bellow of Kennedy wrenching Faith from the converse which vexed her well for though she knew there must be falsehood in her words, Adelle bore a tone of voice which somehow sparked a recognition and comfort in the pirate.

"Dawn, ye stay with Mrs Summers, for she needs ye now", smiled Faith as the young girl nodded back protectively of the widow. "Aye, what be goin' on Ken?", the shipless Captain yelled as the First Mate shouted down from the cannonades.

"The Irish brigade have a semaphore boy signalling t'the French ship. Holy mother, they are bein' told to fire direct on the gates an' courtyard. The first ship be turning broadside, my god…they have sixty cannon o' thirty pounds each … all aiming at us"

"Jesus", sighed Faith with a flinching of lip o'er teeth as she cast an eye back to the blanched face of Adelle who knelt by Joyce in utter shock that such a possibility could be true.

"But Faith, this fort be unbreachable is it not? Are we not safe here?", asked Buffy as she wiped the blood and debris from her ruined gown.

"Nay, 'tis true the fort be strong but only by dint of the battery lining the entrance t'the port, the crossfire from the thirty pounders would reduce any fleet to matchwood afore they could e'er dock. But the Frenchies be past the defences an' though this gatehouse be strong it could ne'er survive a full arsenal", replied Faith as she watched Kennedy slide down the rope once more and bound back across the corpse laden wood strewn cobbles.

"But what of the cannon on these walls?", asked Buffy pointing to the silent guns on their ramparts as she stepped away from her mother.

"They be strong iron with balls aplenty, but there be nary a snifter o'powder, not enough for one gun let alone enough t' repel them", said Faith as her eyes flitted around to gain measure of the confines of the courtyard which would be their tomb.

"B-but can we not wait it out? Mayhaps their cannon will not reach the walls?"

"B, once the French ships dock an' join with the Irish they will have near four hundred men to our bare twenty. They are armed to the teeth with musket an' flintlock with powder to spare, we have barely enough swords between us. Such a fight be beyond us for once they.….", Faith broke off as she cast her eyes to the heavens in penitence, "Lord, I have not called 'pon you for manys the year…but now….I beseech thee for thy help. Not for me, but for the woman who has my heart an' those who have stood proud by my side. Please Lord….help us…I beg of thee"

_**BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!**_

The cannon of the French smashed into the surrounding buildings of the town sending up plumes of brick and oak afore four of the cannon smashed into the thick walls of the fort with evil gritted crunching. A twisting rent of iron sounded out as one sure shot pierced the gate well casting a hole of five inch span as it ricocheted across the cobbles with a flinty tang 'til it found home in the wall of the gaol.

"Faith, it seems they little in the way of arms", shouted Buffy over the din as the prisoners scattered well at the fire.

"Nay B, that were just a ranging volley o' few shot. Once they turn they will unleash full broadside… an' these walls cannot withstand such a blastin'", said Faith in mourning's pitch as she felt Buffy slide her hand into hers and give a warm squeeze.

The remaining pirates and prisoners, though blood soaked and wounded, felt a gallantry resurface in their hearts which had been robbed of them of late. But though their spirits were willing they knew that the cannon of three ships had them in their sights and within moments would rend the courtyard and outer walls of the fortress into rubble and shattered bodies.

No prayers could help them now.

No redemption clause offered by Rabbi or Bishop would hold their salvation unto them.

Willow felt her heart near thunder from her chest as she saw the panting desperation of Kennedy who grabbed her hand well.

"Ken….if these be truly our last moments…I wish t-to say…I-I…."

"Willow, marry me", snapped Kennedy as her head span unto her love's.

"W-what?", squealed the maid with flustered tone.

"When we get out of this….marry me", said the pirate with dizzied eye and trembled lip.

"B-but we will not get out of this I fear", gulped Willow, "Y-you be just saying that for you think us doomed an….."

"Nay my sweet Will, I be asking _**so**_ we be determin'd to live on. So what say ye my love, will ye take someone as I t'be yours?", said Kennedy with such enlivened spirit that her senses cowered under its breadth of power.

"B-but….marriage?...'tween a woman..a-and a _woman_? No padre would…", stammed the redhead as she felt a warm tickle fill her heart and clench at her nether regions.

"Damn the bloody padre, all we need is a Cap'n and she can wed us. Faith will…"

"I…I…..yes"

"Yes?", coughed Kennedy as her brows sprang up in surprise.

"Yes….. my love, I will be proud to take thy hand", said Willow as her senses were all a fuddled by the flame of the fight and the desperation of her last moments alive. Their lips pressed as they heard the final call of the Reaper ring out, for if they were to perish Willow and Kennedy wished to meet their maker as one.

_**BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!**_

Cannon rang out as if spat from Hell's own arsenal spitting its heavy iron poison through the air. Screaming death blasted forth in quick succession tearing the air as it found its target.

Faith hauled Buffy into her arms and clenched her tight and fought her pained sob for the pirate wished for just one more day in this mortal realm to prove her love for the Lady but as the iron balls slashed through the air they held their sharpened breath for they knew it would be their last.

But no shot struck their walls.

No gate rendered unto twisted metal.

No slaughter unveiled itself 'pon the few.

"What the hell?", coughed Faith opening an eye as she could hear the terrible crunch of wood and screams of agony as the cannon fire continued in haphazard sequence. But the fort felt no rumble of impending doom nor the life blasted from them with the lethal hellfire skewering the stodgy gritty smoke filled air.

Mr Gunn, 'pon finding a battered spyglass engraved with Mr Finn's name amongst the debris of the courtyard, loosed his hand from Jasmine's and ran to the great iron gate leaping up to stand on its heavy cast crossbolt. Through the hole punched by the searching cannon shot he stared out across the town to the mouth of the port where the spyglass filled his eye with plumes of smoke and flashes of flame.

"What be it Mr Gunn?", shouted Faith as she loosened her grip from Buffy's hand and bounded across the bodies and debris of the courtyard 'til she stood but a yard away pushing her way past Isis and Topher whose ragged breath ached their lungs but their hearts roused well at the pump of sulphurous blood raging through their hearts.

"Tis a ship"

"Another Frenchie?", asked Faith ready to fight them too if the cause called for more bloodshed.

"Nay, tis….I know not what it be", said Mr Gunn curiously spying the great man-o-war approaching lurching on the tides as if helmed by a drunkard spitting death and carnage from its cannons tearing the French ships into jagged shafts of oak.

Faith clambered up the crossbolt and snatched the spyglass from her Bo'suns hands to send her gaze out but as the image filled her eye, she could not help the sob erupt from her.

"What be it, Cap'n? British mayhaps…..or the Spanish?", asked Kennedy in fear for ne'er had she seen Faith bluster a weakness afore.

"N-nay", squeaked the Captain in lilting voice.

"Then what be it?"

"'Tis.….'tis The Acathla…'tis Madam Dru!", yelled Faith with a smile so wide her face near split in twain as there, swinging from the rigging of her ship which had not left the hellmouth in manys the year, was Madam Dru in all her hedonistic glory barking out orders to the throng of heavily armed cut-throats filling her decks and striking fuse to cannon in great booms of leaden anger.

"Fire ye fucksters, send 'em all t'hell!", cried Madam Dru spitting the long stemmed clay pipe from 'tween her chipped teeth as she swung down from the tangle of ropes, her fine corset hugging her waist tightly atop her flouncing ruffled shirt, to stand on the brass monkey near emptying of cannonballs as their thirty pounders strafed the French ships to kindling in an unending volley of iron and grape.

The invading French ships could not turn in the narrow channel of the harbour and so could offer no spark of reply unto the pirate vessel, oft cast off as mere legend, as it blasted mastheads and hulls into jagged smouldering splinters. Two ships had taken the lead into the port and the third, heavily laden with munitions and supplies, sallied on just in front of The Acathla with no retreat, their only salvation was to make port but the burning Casa De Bonecas blocked their path as the French knew they were trapped 'tween a fiery end and a piratical man-o-war captained by a woman whose mind was fractured well.

"Glory, take th' shipstand an' run with block t'bulwarks. Harmony, break th'ammons an' ready yer carricks", yelled Madam Dru as she ran along her decks waving her twin cutlasses around thirsty to sup 'pon the blood of foe once more, her hair flailing like tendrils in the sea breeze.

"Madam Dru, what the hell are ye talkin' about?", snorted Glory as though she knew well the ways of the sword, the whore had little in mind about seamanship and wiped the vomit from her tunic once more. The deep red coat, snared from a deserter who ended up at the hellmouth the past winter, suited her well as she stocked her leather bandolier with freshly loaded flintlocks.

"Ach, who cares", Madam Dru giggled back as her head was full of rum and her heart full of need as she stood on the red hot cannon waving her well-notched cutlass as her body slithered like serpents mating dance, "Miss Edith, fire all cannon an' blow them all t'hell!"

"Aye, aye Madam!", called back the dwarf whose pretty white dress, bedecked with glimmering satin bows of sweet blue hue, flared in the blasts of the cannon. Though such attire was ill-suited for battle, Madam Dru insisted in her short statured friend be dressed in her finest. Miss Edith scurried about with smouldering fuse as she ran along the deck sparking cannon after cannon spitting murderous intent at the French ships whose canvas ripped and mizzens shattered.

"Er…Glory?", coughed Rhona as she held a thick scimitar in her hand nervously gripping the capstan.

"Aye?", said the blonde haired harlot who watched with glee as the deckhands, rounded up from a dozen ships in the hellmouth, loaded and fired as the French flagship tore with thundered shot. Mast and deck shattered 'neath the wrath of The Acathla who snaked closer along the rippling tides.

"You know how to handle a blade, Miss?", asked the young girl who behind still ached well.

"O'course, Rhona. I have pomped the bassel o' manys the cur who got too handy with me tits in The Black Dog. But soon Madam Dru will teach ye how to handle a sword an' pistol proper, just ye stick with me an' Harmony for now. We'll see ye fine", smiled the weapon strewn scarlet woman.

"Alright, I trust ye fair enough, Miss", replied Rhona as the blasts scorched the very air over and over for the pirate ship was just clearing its lungs, now as they pulled larboard across the sterns of the trio of French ships The Acathla unleashed it full angered maelstrom of iron death.

Rudder and helm were shredded by the grapeshot firing down, nails and broken glass blasted through the sails wrenching limb and life from the screaming French soldiers who fell to the decks awash with blood and shattered bone. The first ship felt the spine of its hull crack asunder and take on water listing heavily to starboard as its remaining masts crashed onto the ship by its side leaving naught but a smashed heap of timbers and canvas as the two ships became entwined and helpless 'neath the roar of lead blasting them into flotsam to drift on the darkened tide.

"Right ye shivy bastards, a shillin' for each froggie ye slaughter. A crown f'r the head of the Cap'n!", roared Madam Dru as they launched grappling hooks to snare the trailing ship whose men had been reduced to few under their relentless spitting of fiery metal.

"Madam, yer prize awaits!", cackled Miss Edith as she fired her flintlocks with deadly aim sending skull and cries of torment from the French soldiers manning the topmast who felt the dull fiery lead slam through their bones.

"Aye, board 'em ye wee buggers", yelled Madam Dru as she lead the charge onto the last French ship still able to put up a fight, her cutlasses flailing wildly as they bit into skin and skull alike for the slithering woman was every inch the lunatic who craved death implied by her legend.

Faith lowered her spyglass from the scene of spurting crimson and swishing steel and laughed with churlish glee.

"Faith, what be it? Be Madam Dru in strife?", asked Buffy as the pirate, whose body was near broken only fuelled by her unyielding spirit, crossed the cobbles to the remaining pirates.

"Best ye not know B. For I have heard tell of what happens when Madam Dru boards a ship, safe to say ….the French be goin' nowhere", she grinned back sheathing her sword once more and casting a thankful gaze unto the heavens for its timely mercy.

"T-then the day be ours?", asked Buffy gently taking Faith's grimy hand into her own.

"Nay….not yet. Isis, Mr Gunn, defend that gate with all ye have. Make sure none of 'em claw back in for that Irish brigade still be out there", ordered Faith glancing back to the gatehouse

"Aye, aye, Cap'n", snapped Jasmine, to Faith's surprise, as she ran back to the gatehouse bearing as many swords and powderless muskets as she could for she was as ready to tear flesh as any buccaneer present.

But with the iron gate sealed and heartily defended, and the French ships being wrought into driftwood and eviscerated corpses, Faith finally broke her clenching rasping breath and sighed with deep relief. For though the fight be not over, she could at last rest for the moment and tend to the wounded as they regrouped and readied for any assault.

"Ken…..did my ears deceive me or did ye say somethin' about …. weddin' bells?", smirked Faith as she watched the colour drain from her First Mate's face as Kennedy suddenly realised the truth of her pledge made in panic.

"Oh my….that be right …..she did!", squealed Willow as her clarity soon sharpened, "Miss Buffy, Kennedy asked me to marry her….a-and I said yes!"

"Oh my Lord Will, I-I know you be sweetened on her but that is….so soon", gasped Buffy in shock as her maid took her hands near giddy with her joy.

"B-but did you not cross an ocean to marry a man you had ne'er met before? Look what a fiend he turned out to be", said the maid with blunted word as her gall found a new plateau which she felt not scared by, as if she had been released from her shackles of timidity and was now free to let her spirit soar.

"That be true, well congratulations my sweet Willow, you too Kennedy", smiled Buffy as she held her maid tightly in an embrace as the First Mate felt her spine turn unto seaweed as her skin took on an ashen pallor as she looked across to Faith whose eyes danced wildly.

"Aye, ye take care of her Red a-and….hahahahaha!", cackled Faith looking on as Kennedy, for the first time in many a moon, the First Mate felt her skin burn with a deep set blush pushing a vibrant hue back to her face, "I ne'er thought the day would come when ye would be whipped by a wench, Ken ….hahahaha…. I"

"Shut up Fai", snorted Kennedy in return as, by the fading scurl of the fight, suddenly realised what she had offered unto the maid.

Her hand.

Her life.

Though Kennedy were a most valiant warrior and felt not terrored by the scourge of battle or the clasp of the Reaper, the taking of such vows chilled her bowels and gifted fresh kindling to her fear.

"I know B has a wedding gown ye can use Ken, might need some cleaning though. Oh what a pretty bride ye shall be….m'lady", laughed the pirate dropping a slight mocking curtsy 'pon seeing her First Mates cheeks near turn the colour of Willow's hair.

"Fai, I swear t'God that if ye do not hold yer tongue…", growled Kennedy as she felt Willow clasp her tight once more as the maid bounded giddily.

"Cap'n!", called Mr Gunn from the iron gate.

"What?", chuckled Faith giving Willow a hearty slap on the back as a sign of her gratitude and merriment at being a wench of such stout heart that she could fuddle Kennedy's senses unto being offered betrothal.

"There be another ship sailin' into port, it be pullin' in alongside The Acathla", yelled the Bo'sun as he stared through the spyglass towards the crown of the island.

"Another Frenchie? Madam Dru will make light work of 'em", snorted Faith with utter confidence in her old friend's bloody carnage and fiery madness.

"Nay, it bears British colours….but also….a flag of truce! It be pullin' up alongside The Acathla!", he yelled back curiously.

"But….why is Madam Dru not blowin' them t'pieces? What fresh skulduggery be this?", snorted Faith as she unsheathed her sword once more.


	17. Chapter 17

_**(So here we are, this is the last chapter. Thanks to all for sticking with this tale, especially FireTigerLily, Rioshix, DragonWriter17, CiliaReturning, Squeewockle, Emory, Lilly, BuffynFaithFan…..oh there's too many of you to mention but you know who you are and I love you all. Good, now on with the show!)**_

"Dru, what in hell's teeth be ye doin' here? Not that I wish ye not to be….but how?", smiled Faith as she embraced her beloved friend in her aching arms, their battle weary bodies clattering together bathed in the foul fumes of blood, powder and death.

"I told ye, come the day ye need me….. when all hope is lost an' ye pray for that which is not yours ….on that day I would be there", grinned Madam Dru as she pressed her dry crack'd lips to Faith's bruised cheek.

"Talk not in mumbo-jumbo's prose my friend, tell me the truth. How did ye know I needed ye?", said the pirate queen whose skin bore neat slices which bled but a trickle as she stood flanked by her proud crew under the sharp snapping of the flag in the courtyard of the fort which bustled with rattling sabre and the dull clunk of musket.

"Darla told me", replied the keeper of the brothel as her harlots, now bearing the pallor of heroines, stood true with their loaded flintlocks aimed at the smartly dressed gentleman who stood silent to one side.

"Darla?", said Faith with a brow deeply furrowed by quizzical slant.

"Aye, after ye killed Angelus the men o' The Wolfram held a Council O'War and mutinied taking Lilah as their new Cap'n. They marooned Darla on the island with only Angelus' rottin' corpse t'keep her company", said Madam Dru as her head lilted and she bounced her prize off her hip, "But Darla managed to barter passage back t'the hellmouth with some gun runners who used the island to store their trade. Once back on my isle she told me all of Angelus' part in this wick'd ploy, though I wished ne'er to ride the waves again I set sail at once but at Tabula Rasa we found naught but wreck'd ships….so we sailed here with all haste"

"An' Darla told ye all this willingly?", Faith said glancing at the golden hair clutched 'tween Madam Dru's bejewelled fingers.

"Well…..nay. She needed a little persuasion. It be amazing how talkative one can be when left alone with me …..an' a mallet", grinned the woman whose mind would forever wax and wane in volatile unrepentant tides.

"Dru", said Faith in a slow drawn out pitch, her eyes narrowing in mirth, "What did ye do?"

"Not much. But let us just say Darla will not be playin' the piano for a while", grinned Madam Dru as she swung her blood soaked cutlass, stained with clumps of flesh and notches bore by skull, for she trusted not the company she now kept in the uneasy truce.

"God damn Dru, ye really be somethin' else y'know", chuckled the haggard pirate, "But tell me, why did ye not open fire on the British? Since when did ye fear reprisal?"

"I thought ye knew me better than that, m'darlin'. I will not open broadside on a ship bearing a flag o' truce. No matter how pompous the poltroon helming it", snickered the mind fuddled Madam Dru nodding her singed locks towards the smartly dressed Sir Rupert Giles laden in flouncy lace hems to his finely starched shirt. His beaver hat of plain castor sitting jauntily on his crown and the silver chain of his pocket watch, a gift from his dear departed father, caught the flaming rays of the sun making its small rounded links glint.

"Ladies, please. May we return to the matter at hand", coughed Sir Rupert Giles fresh off the HMS Merlin as he pointed with heaving concern to Dru's new trophy, "Madam, will you please be so kind as to dispose of _**that**_"

Madam Dru grinned with serpentine smirk as she drew her hand up, short cropped golden tresses snaking through her fingers where she held up the severed head of the French Captain whose ship had been boarded by the hordes of scurrilous pirate and set to torch in a blaze of vehement glory. She giggled as she poked at the glassy lifeless eyes and drew her tongue o'er its stubbly cheek, the trails of crimson which had run down the still warm decapitated head drew into her mouth as she smiled coquettishly at the wide eyes and grimaces of those who watched on with open mouth.

"Dru…please", asked Faith as she eyed the British man warily, though he was flanked by a pair of Redcoats standing at full attention with bayonets firmly fixed to their muskets and bearing the white flag of truce, the pirate queen wished not to be caught unawares by any foul treachery still bearing its jagged teeth.

"Fine", huffed Madam Dru as she tossed her prize to one side, she chuckled as the bloody head landed in Topher's hands whence he squealed and dropped it with a dull thud to the splinter strewn cobbles of the fortress.

Faith cast a squinting glance o'er to the bustling Redcoats who shepherded the surrendered Irish and few French survivors away to the dank confines of the gaol where they could rest their maudlin spirits. The British men had spilled forth from the HMS Merlin once they made port after humbled surrender had been offered by their battered and scattershot foes. For the treacherous Irish men and their French allies had little choice but to throw down arms for they were trapped 'tween a fort they could not breach and a pair of ships, in dubious alliance, bearing countless cannon to them.

'Neath a flag of truce Sir Rupert had stepped onto land and headed to the fort as the Redcoats at his command rounded up the beaten enemy, the British envoy wished for no further bloodshed and called for parlay 'tween himself, those in the fort and the pirate loon who did not dock but sat in still waters with their cannons loaded aimed towards the HMS Merlin ready to blast them into splintered misery should skulduggery arise. For the British ship be a diplomatic vessel and ill equipped for battle despite the garrison of armed men which they had brought, the greater force still were two days out to sea but closing in rapidly to New Swaffham.

Madam Dru had taken a longboat and come ashore with Harmony, Rhona and Miss Edith for she trusted not this smartly dressed man who asked for peaceful talks to ensue, for she would gladly, at the drop of a tricorn, impale Sir Rupert on her anchor for her own merry making. Glory remained on board The Acathla with orders to open fire if so much as one snap of flintlock was to air, 'twas a truce of dangerous accord which filled the air with threat.

"Captain Lehane…", he started but was cut off with swift dissect from the mouth of the rogue.

"Ye have the advantage o'er me, Sir", said Faith clutching her sword tightly making wary note of where the Redcoats assembled in case of treachery.

"I do apologise Captain, I be Sir Rupert Giles but such pleasantries can wait mayhaps? As I was saying", continued the man who bore kindly face, "Though we are under orders to send all pirates we meet to the depths of the sea I had watched through my spyglass the events unfolding. When you, good lady, attacked the French and our colours once more flew o'er the fort, I knew we had allies and so ordered no further conflict to unleash. I wish not for war, 'tis not in my nature, but opening fire 'pon you…well such an act would surely make you doubt my offer", said the bespectacled gentleman who could well be mistaken as a passed over curate or aging clerk.

"What offer?", sneered Faith as she stood 'tween the mass of gruff battle weary vagabonds and pirates who, under her orders, would not drop their blades. The empress o' buccaneers felt assured that The Acathla was primed and ready to spit forth its forged iron hellfire, and Sir Rupert carried an air of trust which piqued the curiosity of Faith for it were most brave of him to venture forth unarmed unto talks with pirates.

"I have appointed the new Governor of these isles and I have here letters of marque", said Sir Rupert reaching into his fine woven longcoat for the parchment which crackled under his grip.

"Of marque?", said Faith in a tone of near mockery as she watched Madam Dru take the bottle of grog from Miss Edith and swill heartily.

"Yes my dear, letters of marque are given by the Governor so rogues and pirates may work as privateer on behalf of His Majesty, in essence 'tis a legal form of piracy where…"

"I know what letter o' marque be", said Faith as the hilt of her sword pressed tight into her palm, "I be wondering why ye offer such things to me"

"'Tis not only a license to privateer I bear… but also pardons for you and any who fight with you, Captain Lehane. Both are signed by the new Minister himself", smiled Sir Rupert as he held out the parchment, its parliamentary seal fresh broken by the man who offered kind smile unto the pirate.

"Not by the King?", snorted Faith as her eyes spilled o'er the finely inked quillmanship.

"Nay, the King may be head of state and figurehead for our glorious empire but 'tis Parliament who doth rule his kingdom. His Majesty has no authority o'er his armies who fight 'neath his flag nor the shipping of the land. Mr Robert Walpole became Minister last year and entrusted me with the task of securing the sugar routes 'tween the New World and Europe whose economy flourishes on the white gold and its taxes. And we believe you be key to securing our kingdom"

"But why do ye think I would fall into line with ye? One King is as vile as another", snorted Faith in derisions wake.

"Captain Lehane, Parliament has long heard of your tales of piracy but there did linger rumours about your mercy, your acts of kind morality at odds with the rest of your brethren. I raised the suspect that you could be sided with, bearing a letter of marque you would be as a privateer. Protected under the banner of His Majesty King George you would be free to carry on your plundering as ever, taking the bounty of French, Spanish and Flemish ships as you see fit….. but if you take my hand in pledge you may not lay a finger on a British ship…..", he said sternly.

"Ye really think ye can come here an' make me as yer pet?", growled Faith flicking her blade up to point at his chest.

"No, just listen to me Captain. We need allies in these waters, if it were not for you and your men we would have lost the Americas and engaged in an unjust war with Spain. I have been authorised by Parliament to grant you all you desire in return for acting as privateer to His Majesty"

"Ye expect me to follow yer orders?", said Faith, her tongue dry and tasteless.

"Nay, you are free to do as you wish….and be paid handsomely for it. Your repute alone would keep these waters free of any enemy fleet, this pardon is not only for you but for all pirates in these waters who lay down arms and be brought under our laws. I have been ordered to let it be known that any pirate who does not seek this pardon will be sought down and brought to justice. Captain Lehane, the world of piracy in which you live is shrinking fast, can you, with hand on the Good Book, swear oath that such a life suits you well? That if peace were offered you would refuse it so you could spend your few days left in perilous flight? Please Captain, take this pardon and sail for us….then you can rest easy at last and secure the freedom of all your men"

"I…..I will not speak for them for such a choice be for each man. An' I will not judge them for their hearts desire", said Faith dropping her sword for his words cut her more than any blade for she wished for a real life for her men. For her sister. Faith felt a great weight lodge within her breast for she oft dreamed for peaceful days, and now Buffy was casting warmth 'pon her heart Faith wished for as many days with her love as she could muster. But to barter her freedom pained her greatly.

"Whatever loot you plunder from enemy ships you may keep, you will live as before but this time with no threat of the gallows as bearing a letter of marque grants you immunity", implored Sir Rupert as we watched the last of the enemy being herded into the dank grime of the dungeons where they would remain 'til his word of action formed.

"But how did ye know of the French plot an' Mr Finn's plan of war with Spain?", said Kennedy steeping forward from Willow's clenching hand, for her Captain had spilled forth the true extent of Riley's notion and its evils contained therein as they awaited the British envoy.

"Aye, what gave ye such an inkling?", said Mr Gunn cocking his flintlock for her trusted not such a gaunt man of aged years.

"It were Henry Summers who first heard the rumblings of treason from Mr Finn, but he had no proof nor knowledge of what was to transpire, he kept me informed all this time but his last letter made me baulk with worry for it contained the question of Mr Finn's loyalty after his trysts with certain French ambassadors, once Henry died I knew I would have to set flight with all haste. I must speak with Mrs Summers…."

"I am her daughter, Elizabeth…I mean Buffy. Be you speaking with truths pitch, Sir? T-that my father were…"

"Yes Miss, he was a hero…he gave his dying last to protect this isle and the empire. He was a great man, you should be proud of him", said Sir Rupert bearing wide smile of kind and trustworthy knap.

"I am…t-thankyou Sir", said Buffy sadly as Faith squeezed her hand gently in comfort.

"May I ask, Miss Summers, do you still have the music box your father sent you?", asked Giles with an uncertain anxiety.

"I….nay, it were lost on The Slayer", said Buffy with shaking smile bolstered by the strong presence of the woman who had engraved her name on her battered heart.

"Oh..that be a shame", replied the man with slightly lessening colour to his cheek.

"But it may have survived intact, there be flotsam aplenty on the shores no doubt. Why do you wish of it?", asked Faith in barrelled words for such a trinket would be worth but a sovereign from any hawker.

"I…..I cannot tell you that, it be a secret of national importance", said the man with elusive slant to his words, "If it be truly lost then I must speak with Mrs Summers"

"Joyce be wounded, but she is well. A fine lady she truly be", said Faith with a smile for the widow was indeed a lady of benign swash. Joyce had been taken to her chamber by Adelle and Dawn so she could rest from her angry wounding.

As Joyce had been carried away, Dawn near felt herself sob as Buffy spake with earnest words unto her. She did say that Faith had once entrusted Dawn with her ship, that which was most precious to her, and so Buffy entrusted Dawn with her mother, that which was most precious to _her_. The simple meaning, coupled with warm grateful smile, filled the younglings heart with joys she knew not as she nodded back and stepped inside with the wounded widow intent on ne'er leaving her ailing side.

"I have heard such things penned by Governor Summers himself, I would like to visit her as soon as I can on a matter of some urgency", pressed Sir Rupert as the faint echo of a breeze caught in his breeches shining in mauve velvet for he was most accustomed to the ways of a dandy.

"Why?", said the pirate with a flinch of the eye.

"I cannot tell thee that, 'tis a matter of grave importance. But I would like to extend my thanks to her on behalf of a grateful nation, as would my niece", said Sir Rupert in swift swerve of tact.

"Ye brought yer kin on such a mission?", coughed Faith in surprise.

"I wished not to….. but she be a girl of staunch determine", said Sir Rupert with a shake of the weary head, for the voyage had been long and the young woman not as chaste as one would expect.

"Then she be a lassie I would like t'meet", said Madam Dru as pressed a smouldering fuse to clay pipe and felt the silver phantoms slide down her gullet.

"I think not, my dear", said the English man for he wished not for his precious niece to be exposed to such a blood thirsty harlot who listed as if caught in the lash of a fierce storm.

"What about Captain Finn? What be yer plans for him for he has cast more cruelty than ye can think", snapped Faith in worry for she wished for true justice to seek its target 'pon him.

"I need to hear the full extent of his deceit from his own lips", said Sir Rupert for his report to Parliament and the fine men of Trinity House would have to detail the threat imposed by the knavish Mr Finn.

"I think that can be arranged", smiled Madam Dru, "Miss Edith, I think it time ye showed them why you earned the nickname of 'The Needle'"

"Aye", smirked the dwarfish woman as she pulled out her bundle of needles which rolled into her small hands with a clatter of impending deviancy, eight inches long and still bearing the scorch marks of where they lay in a brazier of late, "My record is fifty six afore they pass out. Once red hot I slide them under the skin, then through the tongue, eyes an' even codlings. I will make him spill all his truths…"

"Gadzooks!", squawked Giles in shock that a lady could enjoy such devious pains.

"If he is to be executed I suggest the Silver Horse", said Madam Dru as she began to dance about on the tips of her toes as if a ballerina caught in the frothing notes of silent harpsichord.

"The what?", coughed the Englishman.

"The Silver Horse, I used it oft on those who wished to clap me in irons", slurred the woman, "Ye strap 'im to a cross shaped like an 'X' an' slowly sliced him in twain with a huge rusty toothed saw….. longways ….starting at the codlings"

"Madam, such atrocities have no place in His Majesty's empire…", blustered Sir Rupert.

"I care not…for I be who I be", giggled the lunatic woman as she ran her swords tip across his chest.

"Dru, do not run him through….at least not yet" said Faith in soothing tone afore turning to the man as Madam Dru lost interest in the British envoy and wandered away to the long hallways of the fort without another word, "Sir, there be much to talk o'er. Can I take your hand in peace? Will ye swear on the life of yer kin that not so much as a blade will be raised to any of us"

"I so swear", said Sir Rupert with solemn tone as he took Faith's offer of truce for he knew the cannon of the pirate ship were aimed direct at the HMS Merlin and, after seeing the unhinging of Madam Dru's mind, he wished not for any slight. "So will you take my offer?"

"Aye, by taking yer hand ye pardon all of us?", replied Faith.

"Yes, all who fought with you are now free men and women. But will you be as privateer to us too?"

"I….I have to think. But if I refuse, will the pardons be withdrawn?", rasped the freebooter warily.

"Well, I was under orders to offer you pardon _**only**_ if you became privateer to His Majesty, but seeing as you saved these waters from the French….as Governor of this isle, I will make it your reward", said Sir Rupert turning to the throng of pirates and pickpockets, "With the thanks of His Majesty and Parliament, for saving the stretch of our empire, I hereby grant pardon unto you all. You all be free men and women, you are no longer wanted by the law nor will you have to fear the gallows"

A great huzzah rang out from the pirates as their hearts bounded with joy for no longer did they have to cower in fear from the Kingsmen who hunted them, cocking a snook to the Redcoats who formed into tight regimental squares in the debris laden courtyard. Faith felt the cheers rouse her tainted heart as Buffy embraced her tight for with this one act by Sir Rupert they could now live in peace.

Together.

The cheer echoed throughout the fort, carrying along the lime washed walls 'til it sounded faintly within the plush confines of Joyce's chamber where the ailing widow eased into the soft feathery eiderdown.

"Dawnie, could you go and bring Buffy and Willow to me. I-I need to tell them something", said Joyce as she cupped the young girls face which had brightened well seeing the widows pain lessen. The older woman lay back on her bed, her wounds fresh stitched and bandaged well as Adelle too stepped from the room in search of fresh linens and balms to soothe the bite of skin.

Dawn nodded back brightly and skipped from the room near running into the slithering smoky form of Madam Dru who wandered along the long corridor, her bloody torn nails pulling along the lime washed walls sounding out a gritty scratching as she stepped.

"Woah there Dawnie", grinned Madam Dru as the young girl nodded her apology and darted down the uneven brick steps to find Buffy and Willow who stood in the midst of the celebrating throng of battered and bleeding pirates who now took the day as theirs.

Madam Dru's head snaked round the oaken door frame of Joyce's chamber, a knowing smirk engraved in her blood spattered face as her eyes clamped down on the ailing figure who lay in a pose the pirate had oft seen before.

"By great Caesar's ghost …..be that really you?", wisped Madam Dru seeing the wounded woman in the bed as she glided into the room.

"Oh dear God…..D-Drusilla?", gasped Joyce 'pon seeing the topered woman whose bottle of rum was near empty, her languid body slithering across the Persian rug as if marionette to a celestial Master.

"Aye, I ne'er thought I would see ye again for I heard ye were killed back in New Orleans…. Mae Thompson", smirked Madam Dru seeing the bright hue drain from Joyce's face.

"Drusilla….please. T-that name means naught to me anymore, 'twas a life I left behind long ago", said Joyce in panicked tones that her secrets were to be unearthed after she had built careful construct of deceit to hide her ways of old.

"But I know who you really be. Ye can change yer name an' start afresh… but yer deeds will live with ye always"

"I have worked hard to give a new life unto me, and for my family. Do not take that from me….please Drusilla, I beg of thee to let my life of old be laid to rest", begged Joyce as she grasped the thin bony fingers of Madam Dru bedecked with golden rings bearing rubies and chipped sapphires.

"Very well, I shall hold my tongue for I owe ye much. But do you not think yer darling Buffy deserves to know the truth?"

"A-about what?"

"That she were not the first to spill forth from yer loins?", smiled Madam Dru recalling well the terrible price this woman had to pay all those years ago.

"Dru….I beg of thee", said Joyce with pooling tears as she felt her tapestry of lies start to unravel and decay.

"I be jestin' with ye my dear, for no-one will hear yer truth from me….._**Bloody Mae**_", grinned Madam Dru as she leant forward and pressed her lips to Joyce's own. The skin rippled warmly under the brush of moist skin 'til Dru broke away with a smirk.

"W-what was that for?"

"For old times sake…ye were always my favourite", winked Dru as her ears prick'd on the mumbled voices skimming along the hallway. The mind fuddled woman made her farewells speaking not a word unto Buffy and Willow who stepped into the chamber with spritely gait.

"M-Mother….be you alright? You seem a little flushed", asked Buffy perching on the side of the bed as Willow stood to one side with a gleaming grin for the betrothal to Kennedy had her mind atizz.

"I….er….yes….I be fine my darling. Willow, come….sit", smiled the widow hauling her well-rehearsed mask back 'pon her face.

"I…very well Ma'am", said the maid with a slight bob of a curtsy before she perched on the other side of the soft expanse of the four poster bed.

"Willow, please call me Ma'am no longer….for there is something you need to know. A-about your father", said Joyce with deep rattling breath as she set ready to spill forth the truth.

In the courtyard outside Faith sat on the smouldering wedding platform and held her beloved friends, Kennedy and Mr Gunn, as they could finally breathe the air of true liberty. Their sacrifice and pains of the years past had gifted unto them a freedom not bought, but earned, thus lending it sweetened tang.

"Ye know, we have to find Davis an' Carrie for we owe them much", said the enchantress of the tides as the vagabonds and pirates around them sang in great cheer.

"I be what!"

Both Faith and Kennedy's head snapped up at the sudden shriek spilling from the lead slatted window of the upper chamber. Willow's voice piercing the air into cowering fragments at the shock of truth bestowed 'pon her in a flood of simple words.

_**One Week Later**_

The past days had been a tempest of frayed nerves and blustered revelations but had soon eased into a gentle sway of frivolity in preparation for the nuptials taking place on the brightly decorated deck of The Acathla. Buffy stood in beaming silence for knowing that she was kin unto Willow had not harmed her love of her father for she knew he was a man of wandering lust but fierce determine to do right by the young girl who looked the very epitome of graceful elegance as the words of joy echoed around them.

"Do ye take her as yer bride, Ken?", asked Faith as she fidgeted awkwardly 'gainst the scarlet weskit fastened round her ample bosom o'er the plain ivory shirt, unfastened to near show a glimpse of succulent breast, bearing no ruffles or elegant stitch of Parisian craftmanship.

"Aye", smiled back Kennedy, her hair spun into a French braid with a white silken bow hanging limply down past her stiff collar, as she held the small hands of her beloved, the frothing Mechlin lace of the pirates cuffs tickling Willow's fair skin as Kennedy's fears fell away to naught. Though she had spent manys the hour the past week in a panicked swash she knew that though such a marriage was swift, the pardoned buccaneer could find no fault with wanting to spend her days with the Willow. To cast aside her life of old where she would think naught of purchasing the attentions of a half dozen strumpets for a guinea.

Kennedy still felt the churning of her innards at undertaking such a pledge but seeing the radiance of her beloved she felt the ill waters still within her. Willow's hair a long and flowing wash of fiery red offset 'gainst the simple white gown Joyce had insisted on purchasing for her. Its flowing petticoats plumped out the silken dress and its bodice clasping her midst well bathing her in a subtle elegance as they stood before the oaken wheel of the ship intertwined with white roses.

"Red…..I mean Willow, ye need to understand about Brehon Law. 'Tis the common binding o' the seas, it means anyone can wed but the marriage will only last for a year, at the end o' that time either of ye can end it by simply saying 'I release you'. Then it be over, or after that year ye can renew yer vows, much more civilized than the laws o' the land. You understand?", said Faith solemnly.

"I understand, thankyou", said Willow with a sharply jiggled nod as she cast a brief glance to Buffy who nudged the other bridesmaid Dawn who was bedecked in a pretty gown of simple blue showing that 'neath the grimy pirate lay a dormant beauty of a girl set to bloom.

"Then do ye take Ken as yer bride?", said Faith nodding towards Kennedy who shifted awkwardly in the white stockings bleeding down from the scarlet velvet breeches with longcoat to match. Though the First Mate had aired her protests at such attire she was near press'd into such dandy clothing at the firm insistence of Adelle and Joyce who spoke as if they were mothers to all who sailed with Faith. Kennedy, though strong at the helm and fierce at the blade, could not fight the twin prongs of the elder women who, in a flurry of need, prepared all for the wedding spending coin they did not have, but such debts meant little compared to the joy of the day.

"I do", said the smiling wench who near glowed in the beauty of the moment.

"Then…", Faith grinned with decadent warmth,"...I pronounce ye wed. Ye may kiss now"

As Kennedy moved her head forward their lips met in a wondrous pressing of skin as the collection of pardoned pirates and gentile folk sounded out a fine huzzah as the two kissed sweetly. Their souls bled into each other as a soft breeze fluttered across the finely decorated deck of The Acathla, though Madam Dru were Captain of the vessel she had allowed Faith to wed the two for the woman of strange indulgences looked on Faith as if she were kith and kin.

Willow wept in honeyed joy as she broke the embrace to accept the warm congratulations of Buffy who, in order not to outshine the bride of the day, had chosen to don the uniform of the sailor boy once more. It filled her with an unusual freedom to be allowed to choose to forego the clench of corsets and the rustle of petticoats, though her mother wished for more womanly attire Buffy twisted her face into pouted whinny 'til Joyce sighed in defeat.

Ebony warrior Mr Gunn and Jasmine held each other tight for though they too desired to wed they wished not to steal the thunder of the day for their own as they wished to wait 'til making solemn oath for they wished for a wedding of Islam to bless their union. They laughed and caroused as Lorne and Johnathan, both clad in fine suits befitting gentlemen of the times, poured forth the fine wines and sherries which once filled the cellar of the Governor's mansion but, as a wedding fit, Sir Rupert had allowed the freed pirates to purloin the great measures of drink for the feasting. Glasses and tankards filled and flowed with the grog as the gathered men and women shouted their huzzahs and raised sorrowed toasts to fallen friends who were no longer with them but no doubt cast their smiles down from their heavenly slumber.

"Ken, the Casa De Bonecas be a fine ship, is it not?", said Faith as her arm hung lazily around her friends shoulders, the lace ruffles of her cuffs dangling down well as she took her beloved First Mate to one side.

Their gaze cast across the docks to the battered man-o-war whose fresh canvas was being hung by the throng of British mariners who had arrived on the three ships two days past and were ordered to set to work on repairing it with haste by Governor Giles wanting to show his offer of privateering was honest and steadfast. Though it were singed by the fire and blast-beaten by the battle, it were now in growing stead and ready to sail 'pon first tide.

"Aye, now they fixed th' bow so it be not too far after the heads it be a fine vessel. What it lacks in speed it makes up for in solid hull, other than that it has fine pitch. But how be we off for crew?", said Kennedy as she pulled at the ruffled lace cravat tickling her neck, its high collar hiding the savage scars around her throat.

"Isis an' Topher have taken my offer t'sail with me. There be also that gunsmith Chao-Ahn an' the well topered debtor….what be his name?"

"Harrison? Aye, he seems like a rum cove. I think they will be fittin' for such a fine ship", said Kennedy lightly for she felt most anxious to feel the lilt and swell of the waves once more 'neat her heels, this past week on land had made her more determin'd than ever to snare the lash of winds and the curl of the tides.

"Aye, a fine ship like that needs a fine new name….an' a fine new Cap'n. So how about it?", said Faith with earnest glare.

"Huh?"

"You want it? To sail as my right hand woman as Cap'n o' yer own ship? Think of it as my wedding gift to ye", smiled Faith as she toyed with the silver crucifix dangling around her neck gifted unto her by Buffy now her faith in the Lord had begun to blossom in her breast once more.

"B-ut…a Cap'n?", gasped Kennedy in dizzied shock.

"Aye. Ken, ye have served well on The Slayer for many years, takin' command when I could not, sailed it through the squall an' saved us all. Ye saved my life often, I can ne'er repay ye for that"

"As ye have saved mine, 'tis what we do", shrugged Kennedy in reply.

"Aye, but ye deserve a ship o' yer own…..being a married woman an' all", teased the buccaneer with a gentle nudge of play.

"Shut up Fai", Kennedy said round a lighthearted chuckle.

"That's '_shut up Cap'n Fai__'_ to ye,Ken. But ye do deserve such a fine vessel, for I have my own", smirked Faith looking across at the great ship which was surrounded by the working of mortice and anvil sparks.

"Sir Rupert has offered ye any ship in the harbour for yer own, so why do ye insist on taking the Initiative as yours?"

"Think of it a trophy Ken, the skin of a leopard", said Faith in solemn reply as she thought of the gelded Mr Finn currently being shipped back to England to serve as example unto others who betray the King's word. "But will ye take my hand an' be a Cap'n too?"

"But w-what if I fail….both as Cap'n _**and**_ being a wife"

"He-he….._wife_..", chuckled Faith lightly.

"Hey"

"Sorry, it just soundeth strange. But listen to me Ken, I trust ye more than ye will e'er know. So crave me this boon…take the helm an' be the Cap'n ye were always meant to be"

"Aye…I will take yer offer", said Kennedy as she and her friend embraced firmly.

"Thankyou my friend, an' fear not about married life. If ye pay as much mind t'yer wifely duties as ye do to yer ship, then ye will both live long an' happy lives. But if ye e'er need me, ye know I will be there …. always", said Faith with teary quake to her voice.

"Aye…I know", said Kennedy as the crew once of The Slayer smiled widely and slapped her back in congratulation.

"Mr Gunn, it seems I no longer have a First Mate for my ship. Be ye the man for the job?", said Faith staring at the man who bore shock'd countenance.

"Me?…..a-aye. I would be proud to sail with ye, Cap'n", said Mr Gunn as he shook away his surprise and took Faith's hand in oath.

"No better man for the job says I", added Kennedy with gusto as she cast a gaze o'er to her new wife who stood in glowing joy as she released the pained embrace of Joyce whose arm was still bound in a sling.

"You look so beautiful Willow", said Joyce as she ran a solitary finger along the flow of hair cascading down Willow's shoulders like a fiery waterfall.

"A-and you have no qualms about me…m-marrying…a-a-woman?", said the newly spliced woman shyly.

"My dear, we near all perished this past week. Who am I to judge any for finding the true desires of their hearts", smiled the kindly woman as she tried to avoid the knowing smirk of Madam Dru who swung from the rigging gaily woven with ribbon.

"Thankyou Ma'am"

"Willow, how many times do I have to tell you not to call me Ma'am", chided Joyce gently for she knew the young serving girl was still reeling from the revelation of her heritage.

"Sorry Ma'a….er…..Mrs Summers", said Joyce as she tried to hide the strangely pale strip of skin on her finger where her wedding ring no longer lay.

"My dear, you are sister to my Buffy and daughter to my Henry…..in my eyes that makes you daughter to me as well. If you wish it, I would proud to be your Mother, I be not trying to replace your mother but you lost her at such a young age…I just..if you…"

"Yes", blurted Willow in teary joy, "I mean…I would like that….you have always treated me as if kin to you and I be most grateful for that…..Mother"

"Oh my darling", smiled Joyce as she winced slightly as the redhead squeezed her well pressing tight to the bandaged wound.

"But what do I do now? I be no longer a maid in your service…so what can I…"

"Willow, fret not. You are a wife now and your world belongs with Kennedy. Why not sail with her? With her shrouding you with her comfort and grace, what harm could befoul you?"

"But what of Miss Buffy….I mean Buffy", blushed Willow as Joyce smiled widely at her echoes of innocence yet to silence.

"She be with Faith now…talking of which"

Joyce beckoned the smartly dressed pirate queen o'er to her. Faith stepped around Governor Giles and his finely dressed niece Kathy Newman who had somewhat irked Buffy since her arrival. Despite the new Governor's feelings o'er such a binding, he held his tongue for though he felt soiled to be in the company of such blasphemy, the tender love shown 'tween Willow and Kennedy raised questions within his conservative spirits.

"Faith, may we speak?", asked Joyce as she adjusted the silken bow tied 'neath her chin holding her wondrous bonnet of lemon hue in place.

"Let me first…I….I wished things could have started different, for us not to meet under such duress", said Faith with a strange discomfort surrounding her.

"I just be glad we could meet at all, I have ne'er seen Buffy so gleeful…and I think you be the one to bring her such joys", smiled Joyce

"I just regret us meeting in such a bloody manner for I wish ne'er to befoul yer thinkin' of me, all I want is a chance to show ye how I could be…. er…noble an' treat her like she was Queen o' my world an'….", spluttered Faith for though Joyce held no threat to her she wished not to be the cause of a fracturing 'tween mother and child.

"Faith, you need not explain such things to me. I have seen the breadth of your will, how you fight and bleed for those who dwell in your heart. I must admit this be not the binding of hearts I wished for Buffy, but I just wish for her happiness"

"Joyce…I….I…er", Faith said with a stammer.

"What be wrong?"

"Naught, I just….I be not one for airs n' graces…but my father taught me well about….well….. "

"Spit it out dear", the widow enthused softly as she accepted the glass of claret from her servant Theodore who had cast frosty gaze 'pon the new Governor this merry day for he espied Sir Rupert's subtle smiles gathering pace.

"Joyce….I wish to ask ye for yer approval o'er me and B….Buffy that is", breathed Faith not dropping her gaze from Joyce's shocked perching of brow.

"Faith, it be most cherished to me that you should ask me for such a boon…. "

"Joyce, for once in my life I wished to do something right…something true from its start", said Faith as she scuffed her leathered brogues on the well-scrubbed deck of the great ship.

"Do you regret your life on the waves then?", asked Joyce sliding into banter.

"If I could go back and make my amends….I know not where I could start. But now we have peace, we sail under pardons protect…. an' Dawn can live as free woman…it just…when she…"

"You think you be losing Dawn unto me?"

"Well… aye. The way you and Adelle have been fussin' o'er her, getting her to dress pretty and even agree to schoolin'….it feels she be trying to…..", shrugged Faith in mournings echo.

"Faith, you are Dawn's heart. I could ne'er match or surpass what she feels for you, but she has suffered so much in her short life, she deserves and needs the love of a mother, and with your permission I wish to give it to her. I know Adelle and I pamper her so but every little girl deserves to be treated as a Princess, Dawn be your sister so she is like kin unto Adelle as well. Please Faith, let us be the mothers she could wish for, we both missed out on raising our own children so now we have a chance to spoil a child once more. Do you wish us not to lay our affections on her so?"

"It be not that for I know she needs such a love"

"As do you", said Joyce without flinch.

"I…..but my mother seems more happy to fuss o'er Dawn and make her….", spat Faith as she peeked from her breadth of eye the lingering form of Adelle who knew not whether any love could linger within the rogue's heart for her.

"So you accept that Adelle be your mother then?", said Joyce calmly not wanting to accuse the pirate of petty jealousies.

"I….I cannot deny it….the things she said….I know them to be true. But…having a mother… 'tis like I know not who I be anymore….this Caroline DeWitt I once was….this Faith Lehane I became…", said Faith airing the torments which had burned at her oft in the last few days on land.

"A rose by any other name, my dear. Will you not find it in your heart to ease her burden and call Adelle 'mother'"

"But I know her not"

"Will you not give her chance for she has suffered her grief for you her whole life. Think how you would feel if Captain Wilkins were not slain, the joy and love you would feel for having his return unto your life. Adelle now feels that for you", pressed Joyce firmly for Buffy had spilled forth every aspect of the rogue pirate unto her mother this past week.

"I…I understand, it just be….she thinks me still a child"

"How so?"

"Breathe a word of this an' I swear ye will breathe yer last...", said Faith in muted pitch.

"Very well", said Joyce trying not to smile at the thin threat.

"Last night….she came to my chamber….a-and tucked me in"

"R-really?", said Joyce stifling her mirth seeing the flushing of Faith's cheeks. "That be sweet"

"This be not a matter for levity Joyce", she snorted as her face warmed a touch, "But it also be the rigmarole of late. Adelle keeps enthusing that I should wear gowns as a lady should, but I be a wench o' the tides"

"Then why did ye wear one when we sat for our portrait yesterday?", said Joyce fondly recalling the intense blushing of Faith when the previous morn she had donned a fine silken gown of deepest green. A cameo sitting on her thin choker, her hair twisted up neatly and the tattoos of her arms covered by the elbow length satin gloves all lent Faith an undeniable beauty which made the ladies gasp as she stood for the artist to capture their likeness in the swish of oils.

"…I…..", said Faith.

"And you did dance at the ball Governor Giles and his niece threw for us last night, yes it was small and intimate but when you danced with Buffy looking equally fine in her gown you seemed so vibrant"

"Ye can talk"

"What do you mean?"

"I saw how you looked at Sir Rupert when ye danced. Methinks there be promise a-kindling there", smirked Faith seeing the faint flushing of Joyce's robust cheeks.

"I…well…he be a fine man and….nay, you doth change tact Faith. I was speaking of ye dancing with my daughter despite your discomfort in your gown"

"Well…for Buffy…I would do anything"

"You really love her, do you not", smiled Joyce feeling a strange bonding with a rogue still fresh from the shadows of the gallows.

"I do….more than words could e'er do justice"

"Then you wish to spend a long and happy life with her, could you really do that as a pirate? Will you not be wanted the next time you plunder?"

"Aye…I know she deserves all the love I can muster, an' I wish to gift her all I can….she has freed me from the shackles of angst and my heart doth bound when I be with her…", admitted Faith for she felt this be not the time for veiled truths.

"Then open your heart just a little more and help Adelle rekindle the love that every daughter has for a mother. Just speak to her…please", implored Joyce with lightened tone.

"Aye….I will…but not today….I need a little time", said Faith breaking off from the converse, "Red!"

Willow turned from her sweet embrace with Buffy and followed the Captain's beckon for parlay, alone.

"Yes Faith?", asked the bride as she crossed the deck in her low slung heels, one hand lifting her voluminous petticoats as she walked with a rustle.

"Red, I know ye be a fine woman with stout heart…..such qualities are rare and fine within a wench like ye"

"I beg your pardon?"

"I meant naught by it, but heed my words when I say if ye e'er hurt Ken in any way…..I will hunt ye down an' make ye pay. I swear it", said Faith with grinding teeth.

"I…oh…", said Willow seeing the burning truth within the pirates fixed eyes.

"Aye, an' it will be without mercy"

"I-I promise I will ne'er so much as look at another lady save for her, and not just for your threat of agonised vengeance, I love her….I truly do and wish ne'er to wrench that love from her"

"Good, but that same goes for Ken too. If she should e'er hurt ye…"

"Fai, what ye be doin' with my wife?", asked the freshly crowned Captain as she handed her empty tankard to Lorne and stepped back across the bulwarks and sliding a hand around Willow's tightened waist.

"Naught I should not be doing. But Red, be ye sailing with Ken on _**her**_ ship?"

"Yes, I am ready to be one of her crew…of sorts. She asked and I said yes, I be most excited to sail forth for who knows what the horizon may bring"

"Good, yer ship be ready t'sail Ken. So go this very eve with Madam Dru an' spread the word of pardon to all who come to us an' swear on the Good Book to renounce their ways. Tell them they can sail as privateer with ye and me"

"Privateer? Ye be takin' his offer?"

"Aye….I wish for long days with Buffy an' I cannot do that if I am wanted by the Crown"

"I understand, I had already decided to sail as privateer but wanted ye to say first", said Kennedy placing a firm hand of tribute on her friends shoulder.

"Be this the right choice? Selling our liberty so?"

"I would rather be with Willow in a long life an'…"

"I know, I do. So sail this eve, an' take all ye can into our pardon", said Faith rousing from her flicker of doubt.

"But some on the hellmouth will ne'er sail with ye, Cap'n Rayne, Mr Moloch, that woman with the…"

"I know, an' I will not take up arms 'gainst them 'til they cross us with foulness. After ye gather all ye can, meet me in four days at Tabula Rasa"

"Why there?", asked Kennedy with a touch of puzzlement as her new wife nestled in close to her side.

"I will tell ye when we meet, take care of her Red. And mind my words", said Faith with raised brow to force her point 'pon Willow.

"Thankyou Faith….that be…er sweet", said Willow awkwardly, "But I think we will be fine, I have decided to sail with my beloved, but fear not Faith, for there be not a thing on these waters who could e'er make me look at another woman. So wish us well and we will meet you at Tabula Rasa"

"Sir Rupert!", shouted Faith summoning a hush to those who gathered on the gaily decorated decks of the HMS Initiative, "I have thought o'er yer offer….an' I accept thy hand, I will sail as privateer for ye"

"That is fine news", said Sir Rupert as he felt her fingers clutch tight around his.

"But only on _**my**_ terms", she snorted staring on with leaden gaze.

"Of course, what it is you wish?"

"I wish to hold the power to pardon any I see fit. I have not the time nor patience to ask ye for such a boon, for I will not bow down to thy authority nor t' the King's proclamation. I value my freedom more than any purse ye offer unto me"

"I…very well", said the man feeling the pirate queen realise her trumping, for Sir Rupert needed her greatly and had no choice but to acquiesce to her demands.

"Second, the Governor's mansion, it belongs to Mrs Summers now. It were her husband who gave his all t'save yer hides, 'tis the least ye could do to repay such a debt"

"Yes, of course", he smiled back with a touch of thanks for he had already cast his eye 'pon another domicile on a plantation far from the bustle of the town where his niece, Kathy could practice her harpsichord in peace without falling afoul of the more roughened elements who resided on the isle. She was his one living relative and knowing full well the stern hand of Quentin Travers he wished her not to be enroled at his finishing school, but Sir Rupert still wanted a fine education for the young lady he had spotted talking amiably to Johnathan. He baulked that his niece could be so brazen as to talk to a gentleman without a chaperone or a letter of introduction.

Faith cast a glance o'er to the widow who gasped her shock for the days past the mansion had been thriving with activity for Joyce had cast her doors open insisting that Dawn and Faith stay with her family until such a time that the call of the waves proved too strong to deny. Joyce eyes simmered with tears of thanks as she could truly see why this rogue had proven herself worthy of Buffy's love.

"Third, no slavers are to sail t'this port. No man, woman or child is to be in chains on this isle"

"B-but slavery be a fine and profitable business and the backbone of economy the world over and…", stammered Sir Rupert on the backfoot.

"Nay! Ye want me as a privateer t' keep these waters free o' the French an' Spanish then my terms will be agreed 'pon first", growled Faith as her handshake turned into vice clenchings.

"I….very well. As Governor I can make such a decree", he sighed in defeat.

"There be another term…..but I will speak of it later"

"Very well, we have an accord. But we need to make it official, so please…give me your sword", said Sir Rupert taking a deep steadying breath.

"Nay, I will surrender myself to thee", Faith snarled glancing down to her scabbard.

"Tis nothing like that I assure thee, as Governor I need to make it a binding oath"

Faith looked at Buffy who nodded her approval with her wide smile, so she unsheathed her father's blade and handed it to Sir Rupert who held it out before her. She flinched but seeing his kindly smile and the warm chuckle of Buffy she relented, she wanted not to fear her own heart anymore, besides, with her crew at hand Faith knew if he so much as drew a drop of blood retribution would be swift and redefine the meaning of pain for him.

The blade flashed in the shafts of sunlight beaming down and he held it afore the gathered throng who now felt a silence descend on them as they watched the pirate queen accept the peace offered unto her.

"I am the Governor of these waters now, but each port and isle needs protecting and I cannot do it alone for I be a bureaucrat and not versed in the ways of war, I need to know these lands will be safe so every fortified island, especially one as vital as this, each one needs a Lord Protector as a privateer to command the docks and guard our shipping lanes. But a commoner cannot hold such a title so by the power vested in me, in the name of Parliament and his Majesty, I do hereby proclaim you….", said Sir Rupert with a smile as he tapped her shoulder with the blade,"…. _**Lady**_ Faith Lehane"

A dull silence shrouded all as they stared on, Faith's face flushed scarlet as the title rebounded around her mind.

"Hahahahahaha", spluttered Kennedy as she pivoted at the waist in mirth seeing the panic blanching her beloved friends face, "F-Faith…..a real Lady ….hahahaha!"

"What? Huh? No, take it off…undo it", she said in panic as the thought of high tea and evening soirees terrified more than any roar of cannon or the drench of blood from foe.

"I'm sorry my dear, but what is done…is done", said Sir Rupert handing her sword back with hung limply in her hand.

Faith stood dumbfounded as the quiet sniggers grew into a fine cheer of huzzah, tricorns and tankards tossed in the air as Buffy's smile widened far as she embraced the woman who had given her all for her.

"Oh Faith, I told you such rewards would be reaped for being a fine and just soul. I be so proud of you, my love", said Buffy as her mind swirled in the joy of the moment as she pressed her lips to those of the newly appointed Lady Protector.

As the throng of men drank with vigour and sung with cheer 'til the sun did droop in the sky they noticed not the Captain slip from the confines of the ship and make her flight. Within the passing of an hour Buffy could find no trace of Faith, but once seeing the newly risen privateer's horse was gone, she knew whence she had spirited.

Faith knelt silently as she stared out across the harbour where hammering and anvil sparks rang out as three more British ships sailed in on the horizon 'neath the fiery orange glow of the sun which hung lazily in the empty sky as the evening pressed in.

Though her wounds were healing well Faith's heart still wrenched foully as she looked out from the grassy knoll peppered by finely carved wooden crosses, markets for graves which bore no bodies, bearing the names of her fallen shipmates. Oz, Spike, Andrew, even Wesley had a small marker. Saying a prayer for each one she took the silver crucifix from round her neck, her faith restored, and hung it around Xander's grave marker.

"See Xan, 'tis the finest view on the island. Ye can stare out across the seas from here…n-now ye can find peace at last…..we both can", sobbed Faith as she pressed her lips to the red petals of a fresh pluck'd rose and placed it by the base of the cross bearing Xander's name.

The solemn silence was broken by the gentle pounding of hooves coming through the trees 'til the mottled stallion Mr Gordo whinnied at his halt next to Faith's fine mare of few years but many hands.

"I knew you would be here", said Buffy as she slipped off the leather saddle and tied the reins of her beloved, though aged, horse to a branch afore stepping towards the mournful buccaneer.

"Aye….I were just….ye know", said Faith as she wiped her tears away rapidly.

"Aye….I know" , said Buffy gently as she placed a tender hand on the pirate queens shoulder, the wooden crosses made of oaken timbers stood in silent attention, all the brave men and women who sailed with Faith had been killed in the past week or so and though no bodies were interred, the new Lady Protector of New Swaffham had placed orders for fine marble headstones to be carved for each of her beloved crew.

"Ye seem to like that uniform, B?", teased Faith casting off her sadness, feeling her ardour buck strangely at the sight of her love dressed so finely.

"Aye, it fits well and it be most smart. 'Tis easier to ride in", shrugged Buffy as she knelt down on her breeched knees 'til she stared opposite the troubled queen o' the tides.

"Aye, that it be. I been meaning to thank ye"

"For what?"

"Riding with Dawn these days past, it cheers me greatly that ye feel so inclined to her", said Faith gently as Buffy slid her fingers 'tween her beloveds own.

"Aye, she be a natural in the saddle. Though I could see she wished it were you who rode at the gallop with her", said Buffy as she craned her head round to stare across the ships under the pitch of tar and hammer of iron in swift repair.

"I will, on the morrow I shall take her round the isle", breathed Faith in heavy elusive rasp as she followed Buffy's soft gaze across the bustling docks.

"Faith, have you thought of a name for your new ship, for if you have not… I thought…"

"I am _**not**_ letting you name my new ship, B", interrupted Faith with bristling tone of abrupt measure.

"Why not?"

"For no pirate….I mean privateer, worth their salt would e'er sail on a ship called The Pretty Elves or somethin' equally as mirthsome", snorted Faith.

"I was _**not**_ going to suggest such a name", baulked the young woman in defence.

"Bet I be not too far off though, what name did ye have in mind?"

"Er….naught", blushed Buffy.

"C'mon B, tell me", pressed Faith as she felt the tugging of her lips.

"T-The Rainbow Princess", Buffy replied in a small voice.

"I knew it, what kind of terror will that strike into the hearts o' men", said Faith as she hauled herself back to her feet afore a sudden notion struck her, "….wait…I have it"

"What?"

"My ship. I shall call my ship The Invictus", said the privateer proudly.

"Meaning undefeated?", said Buffy showing her schooling expanded to arcane language.

"Or unconquerable, either way, no swine is e'er going to take my ship away again", Faith stated as she helped her love to her feet, "And the sooner it be ready to sail the better….. for we have some business to attend to"

"We?"

"Aye…_**we**_. Will ye sail with me, B?"

"To the ends of the earth my love", said Buffy breathlessly as she slid her arms around Faith's weskit and pressed their bodies together.

"Thank ye B"

"But of what business do you speak?"

"You know how Sir Rupert, when he first arrived, said I could keep all my loot"

"Yes, that is because you have none. It all be in the shallows around the wrecks of the ships"

"Aye, but there be much more plunder out there buried somewhere", said Faith as she fished from her pocket a small circle of marked lead.

"What be that?", asked Buffy as her love flipped the coin o'er in her hands.

"It be the key to the greatest treasure of 'em all, you ever heard of El Primero?"

"Nay"

"He had the greatest treasures of all, this coin bears markings, they be the key to the map. Without this coin the map is useless, and without the map this coin is naught but trinket"

"So where be the map?", smiled Buffy with pride that Faith could not so easily be hoodwink'd into privateering with no leverage.

"I know not, but this treasure be richer than any have the right to bear. After Henry Morgan raided Panama he sailed back across the gulf when three of his ships were wrecked in a ferocious storm that lasted three days an' nights, there were over two hundred thousand silver coins lost to the reefs. Word has it that El Primero bided his time and waited for them to be salvaged by locals afore he put them to sword an' made away with it to add to his plunder. Father told me of such a treasure but ne'er could we find it, legend has it that he buried nine chests of loot, of gold, jewels and rare trinkets. I tracked down the coin to the isle of Rancho Carne where Xander an' me ghosted it away, he hid this coin behind his patch in the empty socket, for I trusted no other with this information. Only he an' me knew of the coin or the treasure", said Faith with saddened glee.

"But how did you keep hold of it?"

"When Xander fell… I scooped it out from behind his patch an' swallowed it. I have only just retrieved it"

"Y-you mean you…passed it?", gasped Buffy in shock.

"Aye….but I washed it clean", shrugged Faith as she watched her love contort her face in foul designs.

"So once we find this map we can find the treasure?"

"Aye….but even if we ne'er find it, 'twill be no great shame for I have all the treasure I need…right here …right now", smiled Faith as the tip of her nose stroked Buffy's cheek as she nuzzled into her embrace.

"You know Tara spoke of your destiny, that you would deny it as falsehood if you were to learn of it. But I cannot deny her words, that you held the keys to the kingdom in your hands. It were true", wisped Buffy as a juddering of her heart rang out feeling the warmth of Faith's skin press unto hers.

"Nay", breathed Faith softly as she took Buffy's hand into her own and bared her soul through her glistening eyes."I know full well what my destiny be"

"What?"

"Ye, B. I love ye so much, an' I swear I will spend all my days showing ye the ways in which I cherish ye", said Faith with unbridled truth and burning passion.

"I love ye too Faith, with all that I am and more", said Buffy as she leant forward, snaked her thin arms around the Captain's neck and pressed her cherry lips to Faiths. "Hold. B-be you asking me to wed you?"

"Nay"

"Nay?", squeaked Buffy with ragged distraught echoing within her breast.

"Let me tell of why. Those of us on the sea, not all who wander its tides are lost, some us just be searching for somethin' they know not where to find. Now I have found ye B I wish ne'er to let ye go, but since we first clashed noggins ye have changed so much, blossoming into a wondrous woman I would cherish to call my own. But if I ask for yer hand right now, how is it different from what that sliver poxster Riley was offering ye? Takin' yer hand an' settling down in a fine house with whitened fencing, two hounds at the heel and church on the Sabbath. I could ne'er steal the life ye are just discovering from ye by tying you down like that"

"I thought you liked to tie a maiden down?", japed Buffy with a wry wink.

"W-who told ye such a thing?"

"Satsu"

"Oh. But ne'ermind her, God rest her harlots soul. For ye have come so far in discovering the real Buffy Summers who hath been manacled by manners o' society all her life. It would pain me always if I did naught to aid you bloom into the woman ye are just revealing"

"But what if _**I**_ asked you to marry me?", said Buffy with earnest pitch.

"Huh?"

"Captain Faith Lehane, I love you will all my heart so I be asking you…", said Buffy as she slid down to one knee and pulled forth a simple golden ring,"….w-will you marry me and make me the happiest woman on God's green earth?"

Buffy's soft hazel eyes washed with stinging warm tears as she held out her mother's wedding ring for she had asked Joyce for her permission to wed the one time scourge of the Caribbean. Though her mother wished not to part with her ring, it had once been used to wed Joyce's own mother and grandmother too, and so, after much deliberation, she gave her ring and her blessing unto her child.

"…."

Faith's mouth opened and closed with no sound or sentiment spilling forth from her succulent lips which seemed not to obey the decree of her mind. She stared down as Buffy held her hand in near reverence whilst her heart pounded as if hordes of smithys sparked their anvils deep within her bosom.

"Faith", said Buffy with worried tone, "W-what say you? Will you be my one true love… 'til death do us part?"

"A-aye", came the squeaking answer barely a notch above a penitent whisper.

"What?"

"Aye….I will be honored to be thy wife", said Faith through a scatter of joyous tears for ne'er did she think her heart could love enough to surrender its will unto another.

As the ring slid along Faith's finger 'til it sat by her welted knuckle, Buffy stood back up and as they both shed tears their lips pressed firmly and tongues were near reptiles probe as the two women felt the world brighten and the pains of their souls silence in the adoration which was suddenly broken by the high pitched whinny of Mr Gordo.

They turned to the aging steed with a chuckle as their breath fought to be reined in, Buffy pulling away to tend to her beloved horse.

"B….do ye really mean it? Will ye keep such an oath as sacred unto me?", asked Faith as her teeth ploughed ridge and furrow into her lip in anxious wait.

"My love…. _**I**_ always keep my word"

"As do I", protested Faith with slight hurt etching her voice.

"Then keep your promise unto me"

"Of what?"

"This", said Buffy as a sliver of steel snared the light as Faith caught the hilt of her father's blade in her hand as Buffy pulled forth her own sword of intricate hammering.

"B….", said Faith with a deviant smirk as the air sliced in twain as her sword slashed in practice sweeps before Buffy said the three little words the pirate had been aching for her to utter.

"Faith….en garde"

The two women circled each other, Buffy placing one hand on her hip and taking the stance drilled into her on the piste of Mr Merrick, as Faith mockingly mirrored her angled poise.

Faith lashed her blade forth, the sound of clanging steel rang out through the small graveyard as they lunged and parried in equal merits. The swords rattled and shrang as they fought back and forth, Buffy was the more skilled in grace but Faith had the coarse agility to match the others pressing.

Buffy bounded back and forth in delicate light steps as Faith slammed her weapon down with force 'til the blonde woman snaked round her attack and had her beloved on the backfoot. Faith shimmied away as she blocked the sharpened blows but as Buffy lunged forcefully, the privateer ensnared her in her arms as they fell back into the lush green grass.

Buffy lay on top as she felt the hot heaving breath of Faith slither o'er her skin as they stared into each other's fizzling eyes.

"Is that all you have, my _**Lady**_", mocked Buffy as they both let the hilts of their swords fall to the ground as their throbbing intimacies heated well and their full breasts pushed together.

"Don't call me that, B", said Faith with a whine as she felt Buffy unfasten the buttons on her breeches and guide the former pirates fingers twixt her bloomers, "For I am no Lady"

"Nor am I, Faith….nor am I"


End file.
